


Mutual Pain and Love

by TheGirlintheOrangeBeanie



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, First Meetings, Good Person Pitch Black (Guardians of Childhood), Historical Inaccuracy, Love at First Sight, M/M, Man in Moon is a bit of a dick, Mild Gore, Minor Guardian Bashing, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Pitch has anxiety, Protective Jack, Romance, Touch-Starved, smut in chapter 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 20:43:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19117351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlintheOrangeBeanie/pseuds/TheGirlintheOrangeBeanie
Summary: Pitch has given up the idea of world domination but he longs for at least a few believers-some sort of balance. As he wanders the woods he finds Jack. A lonely spirit desperate for someone to see him.Together they see their mutual pain and find mutual love.





	1. A Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Sentences between these ' ' are Jack's inner thoughts that are also fears. Since they're his fears,Pitch can hear them.  
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This fic is in the process of being edited. I will get back to updating but since it's been so long since I last posted a new chapter, I decided to do some editing to hopefully up the writing quality a bit. The plot itself will not change, at least I don't plan on it as of right now, but there will be extra scenes, some sentence rearranging, and things like that.   
> If you're new to this fic, you can either go ahead and read or wait until all the chapters have been edited. Either way nothing major will change. 
> 
>  
> 
> with that in mind, this fic was edited on March 8th, 2020

After thousands of years of being at the bottom, of being forgotten and not believed in, Pitch grew determined. He wanted believers, he wanted to be seen and known and feared. But, after many failed plans, he knew not to be greedy. He couldn't take over the world; he couldn't get rid of the Guardians. But perhaps at the very least he could achieve a sense of balance. By now he had learned that too much fear destroyed people. So he wouldn’t create another Dark Age, but he needed enough believers to avoid fading. He may have made mistakes in the past but he didn’t deserve to die.   
Pitch thought on, formulating yet another plan when anguished cries reached his ears.  
"Nobody sees me! You put me here for a reason, how am I supposed to find out what that is if no one sees me?!" Gliding through the snow-covered woods, Pitch spotted a boy in a blue hoodie. The young man seemed to be yelling at Man in Moon. His movements wore quick and uncoordinated as he was overwhelmed with anger. Given that no sane human yelled at the moon, Pitch guessed the boy was a spirit just like him. An invisible one at that. Pitch watched him for a moment longer before deciding to introduce himself. Pitch had experienced a similar sense of anger when he was created. Those years were frustrating and so horribly lonely. He didn’t want anyone else to feel so hopelessly lost.   
"I can see you, young one." The boy gasped, his staff raised in defense but it soon fell as their eyes met. "Y-you can?" Pitch nodded, taking a step closer. He opened his mouth to speak but stuttered as their eyes met. The boy was gorgeous. Flawless pale skin, beautiful white hair that looked soft to the touch, and ice blue eyes that held a strange mix of innocence and anguish.  
"Yes. Am I the first?" Pitch wanted to reach out and touch him, give him a source of comfort, but he held back. He didn't want to scare him.  
"Y-yeah. I've been trying to get someone to see me for years but nothing's ever worked. They always walk through me. Kids, adults, everybody. How come you can?"  
The boy winced and a slew of fears flowed into Pitch's mind.  
'Why did you ask that? Now you sound ungrateful, he’s gonna leave. Of course the first time someone sees you you screw up and drive them away. What's wrong with you?'  
Pitch blinked. This poor boy held so much fear within him. Unable to hold back any longer, he caressed the boy's cheek hoping to ease his anxiety before he answered his question. "I can see you because we are both spirits. Souls left behind to fulfill a purpose. Some are in charge of holidays or seasons, some guard the children of the world, some spread different emotions for humans to experience. The humans do not see you because they do not believe in you. It’s odd. We spirits directly contribute to their everyday lives yet they do not believe.” Pitch smiled when the boy leaned into his touch, though he was clearly confused. He must be a newborn to be just now learning all of this. Perhaps he could be a sort of teacher for the boy? If he was interested, that is.   
In his ponderings his hand fell from the boy’s cheek though he didn’t intend it. The frost spirit’s breath hitched as he let out a soft “Don’t go.” Another wave of fear hit him and he quickly returned his hand, uttering an apology. "It's alright little one. I won't leave unless you ask me to."  
____________  
Jack was trembling out of fear and out of joy. Joy at the fact that someone could see him and touch him, fear at the thought that this was all a dream and could disappear at any moment. This man, he didn't even know his name, was so kind. "I seriously doubt I'll ever tell you to leave." He wanted to hug him but would that be too forward? Would it make him uncomfortable? The man laughed, his deep voice rumbling through him as Jack was pulled into a comforting hug. "My name is Pitch Black young one. And you?" Jack melted into the embrace; it was so warm. He felt safe under those long, strong arms. He's so tall, he thought. His head just barely reached his collarbone. " Jack." He mumbled as he snuggled into the man's chest. He smells so good, he thought to himself. Like smoke and pine.  
________  
Pitch smiled down at Jack warmly as he stroked his back. "Jack..."He ran his fingers through the boy's hair, taking note of the shiver it induced.  
Pitch wanted to keep this boy.  
He had finally found someone who understood. Someone who could, perhaps, look past Pitch’s dreadful purpose to see the man who merely wanted a companion.   
Pitch pulled back just a bit so he could raise the sprite's eyes to his.  
"We do not know each other, but we both know what it's like to be invisible. We know the pain of being walked through, yes?" He continued once the boy gave a sad nod.  
"I understand that we just met Jack, but I already feel a sort of kinship. Don't you?"  
'Yes, absolutely, but I'm terrified of it. I don't want to lose you, but I'm scared of getting too attached. What if you stop seeing me? What if one day you walk through me too? I can barely handle it with humans but you? You're the first person to ever touch me or even talk to me. If you leave it might break me.'  
Pitch shook his head. He enjoyed fear, but this? This was sad.  
Jack gave a simple nod but Pitch knew he was holding back.  
"If you wish, you may stay with me. I will care for you to the best of my abilities and I promise that I will always believe in you. And I will never, ever leave you." Pitch smiled at him, daring to hope that he would finally have a companion, finally hear another set of footsteps click down his stairs other than his own, someone to talk to other than himself or the damn moon.  
Jack gave a shocked blinding smile; joy shown all over his face. His perfect teeth glinting in the moonlight. Pitch's heart winced at that smile-he was falling for this boy and fast.  
'He wants me?! But, but I'm not worth it. He's so kind and gorgeous and I'm so plain and there’s nothing special about me. I’m worthless. He’d be wasting his time with me. But… I want to go with him so badly. What if he can't keep his promise? What if he gets tired of me?'  
There was so much that Pitch wanted to say. He wanted to say that he always kept his promises. He wanted to describe precisely how beautiful Jack was. He wanted to reassure him that he was worth so much more than what Pitch could give him and that he would never tire of the first being to bring such joy to his dark heart.   
But actions speak louder than words.  
His right palm curved around the back of the boy's neck while his left curled his waist. He tilted Jack's head toward his own as he looked into his crystal-clear blue eyes. Jack was obviously scared but he didn't pull away.  
____________  
Jack Frost was a mess.  
My heart's racing, is something the matter with me? His eyes are so pretty. His grip is strong; it feels nice. Maybe I should stay with him. I really, really want to but what if-'  
Pitch's lips met Jack's. Warmth flooded his body, his tense limbs relaxed, his wild thoughts slowed.  
He opened his mouth just slightly in invitation.  
Pitch happily accepted.  
Jack whimpered in pleasure as a warm tongue swirled in his mouth. Over his gums, into his cheek. The sensation was so new and electric it made his knees weak.   
Pitch pulled away and smiled at him.  
"Stay."  
Jack nodded, dazed. How could he refuse? "Yes, yes, I will. For as long as you'll have me."  
"Forever then?" Pitch grinned.   
'For-forever?' Jack held back a sob. 'Someone actually wants me?! Not just anyone-Pitch Black wants me.’ He was overcome with joy but....no way it would last. Pitch would get tired of him eventually. Jack's heart ached at the thought. 'But I'll enjoy it while I can. Every moment, every touch, every kiss, I'll cherish them forever.'  
Pitch kissed his cheek gently. "I will spend every second of that forever to prove to you that I mean what I say. I will not break my promise."  
...Jack took a leap of faith. He dared to believe him.  
 


	2. I Belive in You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch and Jack gain believers,Aster tries to put a stop to it and angers Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for the Kudos,comments,and bookmarks! I was so surprised and so happy to see them.
> 
> This Chapter was edited on March 10th, 2020  
> Changes: added paragraphs, grammatical edits, slightly extended chapter ending.

Jack looked around in awe. "This is your home?! It's so nice!"  
Pitch chuckled at his enthusiasm. "Indeed." He glanced around the familiar dark halls and stairways. "A bit empty though. One person doesn't need this much space to their self..." Pitch cocked his head toward Jack as a warm smile spread across his face. "But I'm not alone anymore, am I?" His large hand enveloped Jack's cheek. "I have you now and you have me." Pitch kissed the boy's forehead gently. When he pulled away, he saw that the frosting was blushing adorably. "Y-yeah." The boy stuttered.  
'I still can't believe this is real...Please, please, let this be real and not a dream.'  
Pitch sighed as the two of them explored the many twists and turns of his home. One day, he promised to himself, Jack will no longer fear like this. Fear of abandonment, loneliness, worthlessness, are not emotions this incredible boy should be feeling.  
What he needs is a purpose, Pitch thought. A place, a reason for existing... Even Pitch was glad to have a purpose though he occasionally detested it.  
"Jack?" Icy blue eyes met his golden ones. "Yes Pitch?"  
"Remember when I said that humans can't see us because they don't believe in us?" Jack nodded glumly. "Mm-hmm."  
"Well, I've been trying to gain believers for years but it hasn't worked. The Guardians have always stopped me. But perhaps if I had you, a partner or teammate if you will, we can both be seen." Jack seemed excited until his brows furrowed. "Who're the Guardians?" Oh. He...He didn't know did he? He didn't know about the Guardians or Pitch or any of it. He'll tell Jack of course, he didn't want to lie to the boy. But once he knew that Pitch was a dark spirit, one that fed off of fear, would he leave? His heart seized at the thought. Pitch led them toward the living room so they could sit down. Pitch at one end of the sofa, Jack at the other. Pitch faced Jack as it was polite but he couldn’t bring himself to look into Jack’s eyes. He wouldn’t be able to handle seeing rejection in them.  
His hands curled into fists in in his lap as he tried to steady his breathing. "The Guardians are a team of spirits who guard the different aspects of childhood." His voice wasn't shaking. Good. "The Easter Bunny, Aster, guards hope. The Toothfairy, Tooth or Toothiana, memories, Sandman or Sandy for short-dreams, and North guards wonder." Jack leaned in, eager to learn. Pitch smiled slightly even as his hands began to shake. "I also deal with childhood in a way. As well as the other stages of growth in humans. I am a spirit of..."He couldn't say it. Jack will hate him, he'll leave him. Ice cold hands covered his trembling palms. Jack smiled at him encouragingly. "Pitch? It's okay. Whatever you're a spirit of, it's okay." Oh how innocent he was. "You don't understand Jack. I am a dark spirit. I feed off of fear, I give children nightmares. I am...the Boogeyman." He winced, ready for Jack to yell or declare his departure. Instead, a tiny hand held steady on his cheek. Startled, he stared at Jack. "Pitch, I'm not leaving you. You deal with fear, so what? Fear is important just like hope or wonder. Personally I think fun is important too. It helps to keep kids from getting too stressed. Kids need it all. Fun, wonder, dreams, and fear too.” He...He wasn't disgusted?  
Pitch didn't know what to say.  
________________  
Jack was determined to make Pitch feel better. He didn't like seeing Pitch sad. Looking at the frown on his lips, his down casted eyes, he hated seeing all of it. It made his heart heavy. He wracked his brain for something to comfort the man who so comforted him.  
Then he remembered Suzy.

"There's this little girl I saw a while back. Her name is Suzy. She loved playing ball with her brothers and played every day even though she was tired from working on her family's farm. One day she kicked it into the road. Without looking both ways, she ran after it. A carriage swerved around a corner and was coming straight toward her and she almost got hit-she would have gotten trampled by the horses. I was terrified but I couldn't do anything to save her. When she realized that she nearly died, she never ran into the road again. Fear protects, Pitch." Despite being nervous, Jack held Pitch’s face in both hands. He wanted to make sure Pitch understood. "You aren't dark or evil; you protect kids just like the Guardians." Pitch didn't know whether to smile or growl.

"My Jack, thank you but I am nothing like the Guardians."  
Jack's breath hitched. 'Oh no, did I say the wrong thing? Is he mad at me?'  
The Boogeyman pulled the boy into a hug. "I'm not mad at you Jack; just please don't compare me to the Guardians." Jack relaxed into Pitch's grip. "I-I won't. I'm sorry."

"It's alright-you didn't know. They're my enemies Jack. Why do you think I live underground? They forced me into hiding. Every few decades I come out to gain believers but they always beat me back down because they hate me and what I do. They think I'm evil."  
But he wasn’t. At least he didn’t think so. Just a few believers are all he wanted. A few hundred so he wasn't pathetically weak every second of his existence. He hated waking up every day wondering and worrying if this was the day he would fade forever. There was a time when he would have readily accepted death; or whatever happened when one faded from existence. Now though he wasn’t so sure. 

Pitch was startled out of his thoughts when Jack jerked out of his hug. "They can't do that! You deserve to have believers! You aren't evil; you’re the kindest person ever." Jack's eyes teared up as he took Pitch's hand. "Please, can I help you? I want you to be believed in."  
Pitch's heart swelled; he couldn't help but pull Jack into a heated kiss. "Dear Jack, yes." He felt the boy weaken against him so Pitch supported his weight happily. "Not just me though, we’ll both get believers." Although Pitch was delighted at the idea of having a loyal follower, he refused to hog all the belief and success.  
____________  
Jack froze. Him? Believers? But he didn't deserve them. He didn't have a purpose or anything to protect. Pitch though, he did. Pitch definitely deserved believers. "Oh Jack..." His heart fluttered when Pitch ran his long fingers over Jack's scalp. "You deserve the world. Believers, a purpose, friends, you deserve it all. Never doubt that Jack. You have worth and are worthy of good things."  
Overwhelmed, Jack sobbed, his vision blurred by tears. He didn't know if he was worthy of this this amazing spirit before him but he'll make damn sure he's good enough for him.  
"Thank you Pitch." He said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Thank you so much." Pitch smiled at him, making his chest warm and his face flush. Gosh he was beautiful. "You're welcome my little snowflake. Now," Pitch bent down to meet Jack's eyes. They held a sort of fiery excitement that was contagious. Jack found himself buzz with ecstatic anticipation. "Let's go get us some believers."

It was decided early on that Jack would not bring fear to children. He understood the need for it, but he didn't like participating in the creation of it. More than once he’s seen children become terrified of winter because he made blizzards that were too strong and killed people’s crops or trapped them within their houses. Scaring kids made him feel awful and sick with guilt. He assumed Pitch’s method of fear was different but still. He didn’t want to scare anyone.  
On the first night of their quest, Pitch explained that all children had the same basic fears. One is fear of being abandoned, the other of being outcasted, the last is fear of the unknown. It made sense and Jack knew that the fear protected them but...those fears just hit too close to home. He was terrified that Pitch would be disappointed in him, but instead he was understanding and forgiving. Jack was so lucky to have him.  
And so, they worked together to figure out a solution. Since Pitch wasn’t strong enough to be about during the day and Jack didn't want to leave his side, they had to figure out a way to gain believers during the night. Unfortunately, not many kids wanted to play in the snow in the middle of the night given that most children were asleep. 

And that's when it hit him.  
"I got it!" He exclaimed as the two of them strolled through a suburban neighborhood in Arkansas. "Yes?" Pitch asked curiously. He was up for any idea at this point. "What if you give them nightmares, and then I put a cool design of frost on their window for when they wake up? It'll comfort them I think, but not completely remove the fear from your nightmares. "  
Pitch was silent for so long that the boy began to fidget. Was his idea that bad?" His doubts fell away when he was scooped into a warm hug. "Oh Jack my boy, you are a genius!" He flushed fiercely at the complement. "You think it'll work?" "I do. But of course, we have to test it." Pitch gazed at the nearest house and nodded. "We can start there."

On the first floor was a small bedroom with green wallpaper. The room housed a child of five or so. A little boy who, based on his wide variety of African themed stuffed animals, longed to see them in person. Pitch smirked slightly. "This should be easy." He took a deep breath and allowing his lungs to be filled with shadow that spread across the room. Inside his lungs it melded with his own dark magic that allowed Pitch to mold the shadows into a nightmare. Once the shadow was ready, Pitch blew the darkness into the room. It had enough sentience to locate the nearest source of life, the child, and swirled above his head.

From there, Pitch concocted a nightmare. His fingers danced about in the air, making the shadow above the boy swirl and shift into what he knew would frighten the young lad.  
In the nightmare the boy was traversing through the plains of Africa happy as could be. Unbeknownst to him, the pale beige grass he walked through carelessly held a pair of golden eyes. The owner of the eyes shifted, causing the grass to sway. The boy walked toward the movement curiously ( or stupidly in Pitch's professional opinion). A fierce lion leapt on top of the boy, pinning him to the ground. Yet the boy still did not fear. "Get off Mr. Lion, you’re squishing me!" Pitch smirked. He almost admired the child’s bravery. Unfortunately though it wasn’t true braver; it was ignorance. Clearly the boy needed a lesson in the dangers of curiosity. Ready to make the nightmare reach his peak, he called to Jack.

"Jack. Start putting frost on the window, he’ll wake up soon." Jack nodded. He had been fascinated by watching Pitch work but he was also eager to contribute. He glanced at the window, unsure what to put. He started with a design of a snowflake in the first panel. Simple enough. Next, he decided to put a short message. 'A nice picture to make you smile'  
Finishing off the message, Jack grinned. He was so excited! He really hoped this would work. For the third window pane he made the outline of his body hoping it would firm any belief the boy would form after this. Nothing too complicated, just an outline of a boy with a hooked staff. Last but not least, a simple 'From Jack Frost' Jack figured getting his name out there would be an easy way to gain believers throughout the town. "Okay, done." He glanced at Pitch whose eyes were closed in concentration. His left hand raised and he snapped his fingers. The sound seemed to echo throughout the bedroom. The boy jolted awake with a cry.  
Wesley had always wanted to go to Africa. He loved hearing about all the animals that the explorers found. Especially lions with their fluffy mane and elegant forms. His uncle had given him a picture of one from his expeditions and he treasured it above all else. Now though, the thought of seeing one scared him. He had a nightmare that one ate him! He had no idea lions were so dangerous.  
His body was sweaty, his hands shook. Lions are scary he decided fearfully. He shouldn’t have gone into the grass. For all he knew something even worse could have been hiding in there! He had been too curious for his own good.  
Just as he was about to descend into another fit of tears, his brown eyes fell upon his window. There was frost on it! But it wasn't Winter? He studied it carefully, maybe it was that cottony stuff from the tree. Then he realized that the cottony stuff or frost, whatever it was, made pictures! His nightmare forgotten for now, he studied this odd phenomenon. One was a snowflake, a pretty one too. It had all kinds of shapes and points. Another was...A sentence? 'A nice picture to make you smile' it read. And smile he did. This was so cool! After that was the shape of a boy. Not him though, it was too tall. It had a staff too. For a moment he thought maybe it was his older brother and his staff but his didn’t have a hooked bit at the end.  
The last said 'From Jack Frost'. Jack Frost? Like the one from the song? "Um. Jack Frost?" He called. "Are you here? Thank you for the picture!" He heard a small laugh. "You're welcome kid." He jerked around to find the source of the voice. There he was! Hooked staff and all; Jack Frost in his room! "Hi there!" He said cheerfully. "I like the picture you drew." Jack didn't say anything. Instead it looked like he was crying. "Are you okay? Why are you crying?" Jack smiled as he wiped his eyes on his blue sleeve. Not a normal smile though. It was a smile that somehow seemed happy and sad at the same time. "I'm better than okay." A different smile this time; a brighter one. "You're the first human to ever see me." "Whoaaa. But aren't you lonely?" Wesley gasped and covered his mouth. That was rude. He should have thought before he said anything. His mom always scolds him for not thinking before speaking. Jack didn't seem upset though. “I used to be. Not anymore. I made a friend." Jack gestured beside him, but Wesley couldn't see anything. Then he heard something like a lion's growl. His eyes widened and he curled in on himself. His heart fluttered in fear. Then it happened. The empty space beside Jack darkened into a shadow man with golden eyes just like the lion in his dream. Was he going to eat him like the lion did? The shadow man scoffed. "I don't eat children. I do, however, teach them to be wary of dangerous things. Lions for example. Now you know they are dangerous, yes?" Wesley nodded, unable to speak. "Good. Then we must be off. Do tell your friends about Jack Frost-the bringer of winter." He nodded again. "I-I will." Jack grinned. "See you around! And thanks for believing in me." He ruffled Wesley's hair playfully before leaving with the Shadow Man. Jack's cool, he concluded. The shadow guy is weird but maybe not bad. During the following week, young Wesley told everyone of the nice bringer of winter and of the Shadow Man.  
___________________________________  
"It worked!!" Jack whooped ecstatically. "It actually worked!  
We-you-I-we have a believer?!" Is it possible to explode from happiness? Hopefully not; he didn't want to die.  
Pitch gave a small smile. "Indeed." Well that wasn't enthusiastic. "Pitch? Aren't you excited?" Why did he look anxious? "Jack...I'm glad you're happy and you should be, but...just don't get too carried away." Pitch warned carefully. "What do you mean?" They should be celebrating and cuddling, not sitting quietly. After all these years he finally had a believer! Why would Pitch not want him to celebrate?  
"Soon the Guardians will catch on." Oh. That's why. "After a few weeks they'll notice flickers of fear and dots across the world. They'll come looking for me and attack me until I have no choice but to crawl back into my lair." Jack's hand gripped his staff as he growled at the thought of anyone hurting his Pitch. "I'll protect you. They've never seen you with a partner before, right? They’ll be surprised and I bet we could take them together!"  
"Yes, perhaps." Pitch said stiffly. It was obvious he didn't believe Jack. That was okay though. If need be, Jack would protect him without hesitation. He owed Pitch everything. A deep seed of conviction rooted itself within his heart.

He would do anything for Pitch. The man that had given him a purpose, showed him kindness, and a tenderness he had never known before. 

As the weeks passed, their number of believers grew. Jack wanted to visit Wesley, but he couldn't leave Pitch. What if the Guardians showed up? Pitch seemed more and more paranoid as the numbers of their believers grew. They had over six hundred which, while nothing compared to the Guardians, was the most Pitch had in decades. He was stronger now. His posture was a bit straighter, his muscles just a tad thicker. Sometimes it took Jack’s breath away at how handsome his partner was. Even his hair seemed shinier. Or maybe that was the moonlight. It was full tonight; its beams shining brightly as they took their nightly walk.

Their hands were linked together. The firm grip made Jack feel real and solid. But it was nothing compared to the loving kiss Pitch surprised him with. If Pitch's strong grip made him feel real, his kisses made him feel alive. Each nerve was consumed by Pitch's warmth. His warmth didn't hurt like direct sunlight did. Instead it calmed him, made him feel safe. Pitch made him feel safe.  
In this moment Jack felt a sense of total contentment with the man before him. Warmth swirled in his chest as their eyes locked. Even if one day Pitch grew tired of him, even if one day they would lose what they had built, Jack would always remember his first love.

"Pitch, I lo-" "Duck!" Pitch screeched before yanking them both to the ground. Up above Jack spotted something whirl over their heads.  
"Bout time I found ya, Boogeyman. Ya seem to be stronger now, got ya some believers I’m guessin’." Jack raised his staff in defense with Pitch beside him. "Aster." Pitch whispered. A Guardian. Jack growled; this kangaroo wasn't going to harm his Pitch. "Stay away from him." Jack warned. Aster glanced at Jack, seemingly unimpressed. "Look ya little ankle bitah, he ain't worth protectin. I don't know what he's told you but I'll tell you this: he's an evil, lying, scumbag. A youngin like you would do well to stay far away from him." Glaring back at Pitch," Ya shoulda never crawled outta yer hole Black." Aster growled, drawing his weapons. 

Each insulting word raised Jack's temperature degree by boiling degree. Who does this thing think he is?! No one insults Pitch and gets away with it. He gripped his staff firmly and willed a jolt of ice to hit Aster in the chest, matting his fur with frost. "Aye!"  
But instead of scaring him or hurting him, it just made him angrier. "Why I outta-" Aster raised his boomerang but Jack was faster and hit him with another shot of ice. This one was stronger and managed to knock him off his feet. But that wasn't enough. He wanted to shoot him again and again and again for every wrong he ever did to Pitch.  
"Jack, let’s go while he's down." Pitch tugged his sleeve. Why did Pitch want to leave? He was just getting started, he- "Jack." Pitch said brokenly, staring into his eyes. His scared golden irises met Jack’s ice blue eyes full of wrath.  
Why was Pitch scared? It didn’t make sense. Jack had protected them; everything was fine. "It's time to go." ...Jack sighed. He had to trust that Pitch knew best. If he said it was time to go, then it was time to go. Didn't mean he had to be happy about it though.

Both sighed in relief once their feet grazed the familiar cool cobblestone floor. "Why'd you make us leave?" Jack asked. Pitch hesitated, clearly choosing his words carefully. "I saw the anger in you. The kind of anger that leads to reckless decisions. It's a kind of anger I am very familiar with. I am glad you protected me like you said you would, but please remember to not go too far. Good intentions can have horrible consequences. I wanted us to get out of there before either of us were harmed." ...oh. Guilt flooded his veins. "I'm sorry! I was just so mad I didn't know what do but...He insulted you, Pitch. I had to do something." Pitch laughed. Not a chuckle of amusement or an exasperated scoff, but a real laugh. A laugh that held emotions Jack couldn't name. Appreciation maybe. That would make sense since no one had protected Pitch before. Maybe even a bit of fondness. "I understand. I would have done the same for you. Afterall, one protects their loved ones."  
Jack gasped, unable to believe he heard right. One glance into Pitch’s eyes though and he knew he had. “I love you, Jack.” 

The familiar hold of the Boogeyman surrounded him, but he was not afraid of Pitch. He never was and never would be. Instead he gripped the man with all his might in a fierce hug, scared he would disappear from him forever.  
Pitch hugged him back, a clear sense of desperation in his grip. One hand rested at the small of Jack’s back while the other settled possessively over his cheek. "No matter what happens with the Guardians or us, just know that I believe in you."  
He couldn’t help it, Jack burst into tears. “I love you Pitch Black. I love you so much,” His voice cracked, unable to contain himself. The pair made their way to the bedroom.  
The two shared a night of tender ecstasy that solidified their bond once and for all.


	3. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is ecstatic about all the believers he and Pitch have been getting,but Pitch is not. He's worried. The Guardians won't let them be in power for long. They'll come for he and his love eventually.
> 
> Bunny tells North about his encounter with Pitch and the unknown frost spirit. Together they form a plan with help from Manny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: March 13,2020  
> Changes made: few fixed errors and added sentences here and there

Although spirits did not depend on the nourishment of food, eating was a joy that many indulged. Having fully settled into Pitch's lair, Jack often made the two of them dinner. Or breakfast since they both usually slept during the day. Sleep was another unneeded indulgent but the two of them did so enjoy sharing a bed and their daily cuddles.  
"I'm feeling waffles today." Jack declared as he hopped out of bed. He always woke up before Pitch in order to make them breakfast/dinner/lunch.  
Pitch groaned in mild acknowledgment. Jack chuckled on his way out the door; Pitch really wasn't a morning person.  
The steady clinking of pots and pans got progressively louder to the point that Pitch knew he had to get up. Although he groaned and longed for the comfortable bed, he was secretly fond of the minor inconveniences that having a live-in companion brought. The daily clanks of pots and pans, the slippery streaks of frost scattered across the floors, even the days when Jack hogged the blankets.  
Life was good. 

But he couldn't stop worrying. All good things came to an end. Especially when it came to him. At some point the Guardians would step in. They ruined everything for him though he supposed he could understand to a degree. Afterall, if the world was surrounded by only fear, people would get irrational and hurt each other. But the thing is, it goes both ways!  
With too much wonder and good dreams, people let their guard down. People become naive. And naivete brings stupidity. Stupidity often leads to someone getting hurt. Fear on the other hand helped people stay on their guard and prepared for anything. It was a necessary part of life. Pitch genuinely liked his job. It was important to him. But nobody, except Jack of course, understood it. And having someone understand the need for fear...it was a treasure. A gem really. That's what Jack was: a beautiful ice blue gem.  
As Pitch trudged toward his study, he smiled slightly as he thought about how lucky he was to have him.  
His golden eyes landed on the globe and his smile fell. There...there were so many black dots. Thousands. When did they spread so much?

His slow heart began to pound.

This was not good, not good at all. The last time he had this many believers was The Dark Ages. And then Man in Moon called forth the Guardians.  
What would he do this time? What would the Guardians do? None of them would let him get away with this. They might attack or imprison him or take Jack or- his heart stopped. _No._  
 **No.** they would not take Jack. He wouldn't allow it! He- Pitch started hyperventilating, his heart going into overdrive. He couldn't think; he couldn't snap himself out of it. All that ran through his mind was blind panic. He couldn't lose the one good thing in his life!  
He collapsed to the floor-his muscles twitching as they tried desperately to regain control. His lungs were on fire, his chest cramped. In pure desperation and self-defense his brain tried to force him into unconsciousness, but his thoughts were too rampant, too powerful to be forced into slumber. As a result of this internal battle, his vision dimmed, his mind clouded, but he did not sleep.  
\--------------------  
"Hey Pitch! Food's ready."  
...  
No answer. That's odd, Jack thought. Usually the loud pots wake him up by now. "Pitch?" He called a little louder as he glanced in their bedroom. He wasn't there. He stood, puzzled before he snapped his fingers. "The study! Duh." Pitch always went to his study in the morning. At first, he thought it was to do some quiet reading but Jack's pretty sure he just stares at the globe. He didn't understand at all why Pitch seemed to get upset at their higher amounts of believers. To him it seemed like a great thing. The more the merrier and all that. Then again, Pitch was probably still worried about the Guardians. In Jack’s defense he still hadn’t met them so maybe he’s underestimating them if Pitch’s traumatic experiences were anything to go by.

He shrugged, not really worried about it. He was excited enough for the both of them. He knocked lightly on the mahogany door. Normally he'd just walk into any room since now they shared it all, but the study definitely still belonged to Pitch alone. "Pitch?" He knocked again, harder. "Breakfast is ready." Silence.  
Okay, now he was starting to get nervous. "Hey Pitch? I'm coming in." The door opened silently and slowly.  
"Pitch...?" His crystal blue eyes scanned the room, over the bookshelves, and to the empty seat of the desk. He stepped in and glanced to the left when he heard something. "J-aaahck..." Was he hurt? Jack raised his staff in defense in case someone besides Pitch was in here.  
He walked cautiously toward the globe and nearly tripped over something. "Pitch!" He cried out fearfully.

Pitch had collapsed onto the ground-his golden eyes twitching and mouth gaping. Jack immediately set his staff down to cradle the panicking man. "Pitch, breathe, it's okay." Pitch was having a panic attack again. He had a few small ones over the course of the month of them knowing each other, but none so powerful as this.  
The Boogeyman shook against him as his breath was drawn in and out in uneven jolts. Jack felt his eyes water a bit; he hated seeing Pitch like this. It broke his heart to witness his partner enter these states of frenzy. It made him sad and angry at the same time. More angry than anything because he just knew that the Guardians were responsible for Pitch's fits of paranoia and anxiety. He shook his head at himself; this wasn't about him; this was about Pitch. And right now, he needed Jack's help and comfort.

He stroked Pitch's back with one hand and curled the other around the man's neck. Pitch had said more than once that Jack's cold hands were calming in times like these. After a few minutes of gentle stroking and soft reassurances, Pitch was once again functional.

"I-"Pitch shuddered. "I'm sorry Jack." He nearly cursed at his weakness. He truly was pathetic to need Jack, the one he should be caring for, to keep him calm. He wasn't strong enough to keep his little snowflake safe. He needed more power but if he got even more believers, the Guardians would be more likely to come after them and he'll freak out again and-arg! He needed to stop before his panicking started all over again.

Why was Pitch sorry? None of this was his fault; it was those damn Guardians, he thought bitterly. They had been too powerful for far too long. They were arrogant. They didn't realize how valuable Pitch was to their little operation. Afterall, without darkness, there is no light. Pitch deserved a turn as head spirit. What they needed was more believers. "Pitch don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault."

The man shook his head dejectedly. "I should be able to keep my emotions under control. I should be the one protecting you, comforting _you._ I shouldn't be this weakling of a shadow. I shouldn't be scared of the Guardians." Pitch's nails curled into his arms, drawing droplets of black blood to keep his arms from shaking in fury. "Jack, I’m scared of the Guardians. You have no idea how heartless they can be. I don't want them to harm you in order to get to me. I-" Jack leaped into his arms, his cold lips pressing gently against Pitch's chapped ones. Kisses, Jack had found out, was the easiest way to shut someone up.   
Pitch was shocked at Jack’s forwardness but easily melted into the calming kiss. Once Pitch finally relaxed, the boy pulled back. "I won't let them get to either one of us." Jack promised. "I understand why you're scared; you have every right to be. It doesn't make you weak Pitch." Jack smiled at his beloved before hugging him gently. "All we need is more believers. Then once we have enough power, we’ll knock them down a peg."

Pitch sighed, unsure how to feel. He did truly want to have equal ground again. Afterall, he was on the bottom for hundreds of years. But the risk...he wouldn't be able to live with himself if Jack got hurt for him. At the same time, he didn't want his snowflake to leave. Having Jack in his life made things bearable; he actually made Pitch smile and laugh and feel alive! He gnawed his lips in indecision.

If he was more powerful, then he could protect Jack. He wouldn't have to rely on Jack being forced to worry about him all the time. Both of them wouldn't have to worry any more; they could be safe. But to get to that point, they’ll have to face the Guardians...  
Pitch sighed, frustrated. He remembered the Dark Ages when he was all powerful. When he ruled the world.  
He kind of missed it, if only a little bit. The power that is, he didn't really miss the whole "ruling the world" bit. Jack was more important than any scheme for world domination.

"...Alright."  
Jack's eyes twinkled. "Yeah?"  
Pitch nodded. His mouth tilted in a smile, but his eyes filled with worry. "Yes. But first, waffles."  
Jack whooped with glee and flew into the kitchen with Pitch trailing behind. The shadow man took one last glance at the globe feeling not anxiety, but determination. He will be strong again. For Jack, and for his own sanity.  
The door closed behind him with a sense of finality.

__________________________________  
E. Aster Bunnymund paced back and forth in North's office with an air of irritation. "I'm telling ya mate, Pitch is up ta somethin'. I think he's formin a team a some sort. Or at the very least he's found a right hand man. And he's a kid!" Bunny was waving his boomerangs around like a human would with their hands.  
North couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's antics. "Ah, why so worried Bunny? If he is a child, then Pitch must have tricked him. We shall simply tell him da truth and set him free. Simple!" Bunny looked at him as if he were bonkers.

"Mate, this kid is powerful. I don’t know if 'settin im' free' is a good idea. He shot me with ice!" He screeched, gesturing to the frost on his chest that had yet to melt. North's smile fell, now seeing that Bunny wasn't being dramatic.  
"Hm. Well...ah! Here's what we do: get him away from Pitch first. Then we keep him and explain how things work. What we Guardians do, how Pitch is bad, and then he'll learn! I'm sure once we teach him, he shall learn what he did was wrong. Da?" Aster rolled his eyes. "Sure mate. Sure. We just keep a powerful frost spirit in the workshop and teach im' like were bloody schoolteachers."  
North huffed slightly with amusement. "Well, do you have any ideas?"  
Bunny opened his mouth to speak when a brilliant blue light filled the room. "Ah, Man in Moon!" North smiled brightly as he turned toward the window. "Iz been a long time ole friend!" Usually Manny only appeared when there was news. Was it perhaps about the frost spirit? "What is news?" He asked curiously. A single moon beam flowed into the room, hitting a small pedestal. Atop this pedestal was a moon stone that allowed Manny to communicate through it like the Sandman does with his sand. The only times Manny ever used this stone was to show them a new Guardian. Over the thousands of years of his existence, North watched in awe as Man in Moon selected Sandy, Bunny, and eventually Toothiana.

"A new Guardian?" He asked in wonderment. Who could it be? Now he wished he called forth the others to witness this momentous occasion. But when Bunny hopped in with his waving boomerangs and twitching ears, he honestly thought the pooka was overreacting.  
"A new Guardian?!" Bunny yelled incredulously. I mean, yeah the kid'll be a problem, but I don’t think he and Pitch will be _that_ difficult to handle, he thought in exasperation.  
The two stared as a beam of light shot through the stone in the shape of-  
"The KID?!" Bunny screamed. "No. No way, you’re off your nelly; this is crazy! No way is that kid a-" "Guardian." North smiled. "Afterall, I did say we teach him what we do, da? It seems Manny agrees." He smiled in satisfaction, curious of the powerful youngling.  
Aster facepalmed-nearly hitting himself with his boomerang. "He shot me! With ice! It was bloody cold! And you're sayin the little gremlin is gonna join us??" At this point he was shouting at both North and Manny hoping either of them would gain some sanity. But as always, Man in Moon left having done what he needed to do. "Well that settles it!" North rubbed his hands gleefully. "I'll turn on the lights, we’ll have a quick meeting, and then we all go meet this boy. Sound good?" Bunny was no longer listening. Instead he made a point to sit in the corner and mutter to himself until the others arrived. In addition to the muttering, he tried to pick the irritatingly cold frost out of his fur that still hadn't melted.  
_________________  
"A new Guardian?" Tooth asked excitedly. "Who is it?" Sandy formed a clover over his head guessing it was Leonard the Leprechaun. North smiled at the enthusiasm. "Well, we don’t know his name. Bunny ran into Pitch yesterday and this boy was with him." Tooth cocked her head, confused. "With him like he stood next to him or with as in working with him?" "Working with." Bunny stated bitterly. "And he shot me with ice."

Tooth tried to look concerned but the cloud of pure bitterness that surrounded the Easter Bunny was rather funny. "Um,you okay?" She asked politely as she held in her chirping laughter. "I will be as soon as we stop Pitch and that kid."  
Sandy's eyebrows shot up. Pitch was back with another scheme? He should really pay more attention. In his defense though, it was always night somewhere so his worked never stopped long enough for him to get updated on the going ons of their enemy.   
"Pitch has been getting believers and I think that kid is helping him." Bunny explained.

Tooth and Sandy glanced at the globe, noticing the scattered black dots. Tooth's feathers ruffled in irritation. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?" "Ve didn't think it vas serious. Last month a few dozen popped up and since it’s October, that’s fairly usual." North rationalized.  
Bunny cut in. "But since those dots reached a thousand, I decided to start looking for im'. Lo and behold, I find the Shadow Slug with a sidekick. A sidekick that is, for some reason I cannot fathom, going to be a Guardian."

Sandy made a thumbs up sign with a question mark to it. "No, I don’t think this is a good idea at all." Said Bunny.

Tooth was conflicted. A new Guardian would be very exciting but maybe Manny made a mistake? Or perhaps guardianship is the perfect thing to get the boy on the right side of things. She didn't think he was bad, although she didn't know him. He was probably just a confused kid who needed guidance.

"So, what’s the plan?" She asked. North was glad he wasn't the only one who was eager to meet the boy. "We go to where Bunny saw them last and look for clues as to where they live." All nodded, Tooth with enthusiasm, Bunny with reluctance, and Sandy with pure neutrality. He would decide his view on the boy when he met him.  
With a stomp of Bunny's foot, they were off. Screaming and sliding down the tunnel that lead to the clearing in the forest where Pitch and the boy was last seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so,so much for the kudos! I was not expecting almost 50 kudos;that's amazing.
> 
> Also,please comment thoughts and predictions!  
> Also also,does Jack seem too dark in this chapter? He's very protective,but has he crossed into dark territory? If so,should I try to remedy that or do you guys want a darker Jack? Please let me know below!


	4. Compromise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was edited on March 22, 2020.  
> Changes made:corrected grammatical errors and minor sentence rearranging. 
> 
> *Also! Warning for mildish child abuse. It's a very short scene but just in case,warning!

For the most part, Pitch liked his job. He liked showing children the things in the world they should be scared of in order to protect them. He liked making people jump when he said 'boo'-it's hilarious.  
But there are aspects of his job he doesn't like. Aside from the whole "nobody understands fear” thing.  
Most children are afraid of simple things. The dark, bugs, getting lost, are all common. But then there are those children whose fears are much more concrete. The fear of hunger. The fear of Mommy taking too many sleeping pills. The fear of Daddy getting mean from his stinky drinks. Pitch has seen them all before. These fears, like Jack's fear of abandonment, break his heart. Even worse, because these fears are so concrete and powerful, he can partially feel them himself. His heart has pounded as he watched a little boy stare in horror while his sister's boyfriend beat her. His vision has blurred when a little girl walked home from school and men attacked her-giving her two black eyes. And he too has felt the numb fear of not knowing if he was going to live through another day much like the children of the street.  
These times have occurred frequently enough throughout the Nightmare King's long life that he has developed a moral code of sorts. No child should ever have to fear for their life. And those that cause a child to fear in such a way do not deserve the life they have been gifted with. These are the morals he believed were fair and just despite those that would disagree.  
As he worked alone, those morals were never questioned. The Guardians knew not of what he did and even if they had, they wouldn't care. They cared only about the children. Yet they were too narrow minded to think about the harm done by those raising the children. It was ignorant of them. And so, Pitch took it upon himself to correct the wrongs of poisoned adults.

He didn’t plan on stopping his justified escapades any time soon, but he was worried. Worried Jack wouldn't understand. Sure, Jack understood the need for fear and of that he was truly grateful. But perhaps the murder of humans, even though they deserved it, would push Jack’s sense of empathy past the limit.

Pitch was snapped out of his worried thoughts by Jack's holler. "How bout we start with this one?" He gestured toward a seemingly normal house. A decent looking single-story home with aged blue paint covering it. It was the first on a long street of suburban homes. "This will be a good start." Pitch agreed.

The two of them began to scout the windows with Jack hovering around them and Pitch hiding in the shadows of the blinds. One window that looked into a rather dingy living room stopped them both, frozen in horror. A man, presumably the household father, had a belt in one hand and a flask in the other.

Trembling under him was his daughter.

"You think you can steal from me?!" The man's rough drunken voice boomed. "I work hard for every cent we have and you wanna waste it on some damn toy?" His arm slammed down, the leather belt skidding across the girl's already bleeding back.  
Jack froze, shocked. Pitch's blood ran cold.  
The girl tried to whimper a response, but the brute cut her off.  
"Don't make excuses girl. You know what you are? You're ungrateful."  
WHIP  
"You're a brat."  
SLAM  
The man kicked his daughter's stomach, making her vomit the little food she had eaten that day.  
"Ugh!" Dropping his belt, the man threw her into the hallway. "Disgusting! Go to your room right now young lady, don’t even think about running away again or you'll get worse."  
Without so much as a nod, the young girl sprinted forward toward her bedroom-her blond hair whipping droplets of blood and vomit onto her cheeks as she did so.

Jack was horrified. He had never seen a human act so violent to a child.  
Sure he had scene fights before or arguments where tempers were lost, and people got hurt but not toward a kid. Never a kid. Kids were innocent; if they were bad, they didn’t know it. Sometimes they would get disciplined through a simple spanking, which Jack didn’t like but still a spanking was far from a beating. After a spanking or a time out they got taught the right way to behave. He had never seen someone beat a child before though. A sense of protectiveness filled him. He longed to comfort the girl who was no doubt terrified and in pain. He couldn't leave Pitch though; protecting him was his priority. At the feel of Pitch's hand on his shoulder, he looked up and waited for the plan.  
"Go to her. Bring her comfort and smiles." Pitch said, "I'll take care of the man."  
Jack hesitated. "Are you going to kill him?" His voice low and wispy.  
The air grew thick with silence.  
After a long quiet moment, Jack nodded in acceptance. "I'll make sure she doesn't see it." Pitch stared at him, golden eyes wide. "You...you're okay with it?" "No." Jack stated plainly.

"I don't like the idea of murdering humans- even if they deserve it. But..." He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. "I understand why you think it needs to be done. I don't like it, but I will accept it. Pitch squinted at him, unsure. "Why?"  
Jack gave him a lopsided grin. "I love you, duh." He gave his Boogeyman a kiss, trying his best to put forth all his love and understanding into it. "Do what you have to do." He whispered into his lover’s chest. With that, he flew off to comfort the girl. Pitch stood just outside the window, frozen. Jack...was letting him do it. Jack was letting him carry out his moral code even though he didn’t agree with it.  
His golden eyes stung, trying desperately to keep them dry. Who was he to have such an amazing, understanding person in his life? He didn't deserve Jack Frost.  
But he had him anyway and for that he was forever grateful. His jaw set firm, a decision was made. Without effort he melted into the shadows of the furniture where the man stood nearby cursing and grunting as he wiped off his shoes. Normally he would have to wait until the man slept to torment him. But now, with thousands of believers, he could get this done now. Start off small. With a flick of his wrist, the lamp upon the living room table fell over.  
"What the hell?"  
No fear yet. Just anger with a hint of shock.  
Next, the lights.

Pop went the kitchen light.  
Flicker went the hallway light.

Pitch left the last living room light on but dimmed it slightly.  
"Fucking electricity...I only paid it a week late!"  
The man continued his cursing and muttering as he haphazardly cleaned up the lamp shards.  
Still no fear...time to take it up a notch. What would a man like this fear? His golden eyes scanned the filthy room over trash and liquor bottles. The place was a mess yet the man stated he worked hard for every cent...  
Pitch knew his fear. “You're a failure." Pitch hissed. "Your daughter is barely alive, you aren't good enough. You aren't a real father." Each whispered word hit the man like a bullet. In his drunken state he thought the voices of his depression were back. Didn’t he already take his pills? "I-I'm trying my best. It's not my fault! Work is bad, they won’t give me a raise-" Sweat poured down his bearded face. "Yet you have enough money to buy all this?!" Pitch threw a liquor bottle at the man's feet, shattering it below him. "Ah!" He jumped back onto the couch, eyes whirling.  
"I need them! They help-" "Help what? Help you beat your only daughter within an inch of her life?" His hands raked his scalp, his mind swirling with doubt. "No, that didn’t happen, I didn’t-" "Look! Look at the belt buckle. That is her blood! That is her vomit on the carpet! You'll kill her if you don’t fix yourself!" Every time he hit her, yelled at her, all the times in his drunken stupor that he belittled her, blamed her. It all came crashing back.

The man dropped to his knees, sobbing.  
"No! That can't happen, she’s all I've got!"  
He couldn't lose his baby girl. "I'm sorry!"  
He wailed. "If you are truly sorry, you’ll get help." Pitch's voice seemed to echo through the room.  
"No more drinking.  
No more beatings.  
And you better pray that girl has enough love in her damaged heart to give you a chance."  
The man's heart cracked at that. What if his reform was too late? Would she forgive him? Did he even deserve forgiveness? "I-I will." He blubbered.  
Walter Quinn knew not whether this firm voice was God, Satan, or his own psyche, but he knew one thing for sure: he will change.  
"I will return. If you have not mended your ways, I will kill you. "  
Walter grinded his teeth. But not in fear, to Pitch's surprise. But with determination.  
"I understand, sir."  
Pitch nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Go to her." __________________________________  
The girl had already gone to work on her wounds. Sizzling peroxide dripped down her bare back as her hands shook against the sink. 'Oh man...' Jack thought. He decided to give her privacy and went to her room to set up his surprises. As he sculpted ice flowers on her bedside table, he thought of Pitch. 'I hoped he made it quick.' He couldn't help but think.  
'I've never been without him outside the house.' He realized. It was a little nerve-wracking. He knew Pitch was just down the hall, but he still felt flutters of anxiety. Nothing was going to happen to either of them but still he didn’t like being apart from him. Part of it was because he couldn’t bare being away from Pitch but mainly it was because he didn’t want Pitch to have another panic attack without Jack to talk him through it. After comforting the little girl, he hoped they would get at least fifty more believers tonight. The two of them would get stronger and Pitch finally wouldn't have to be afraid of the Guardians anymore.  
Jack's fingers curled around his staff at the thought of them. True, he had only met Bunnymund but their little encounter was more than enough for Jack.  
Assuming the rest of them were like Bunny, they’d all be arrogant, insulting jackasses. Easy to take down an arrogant person when they're busy gloating and insulting the enemy in front of them.

More than anything though, he just wanted to live a long happy life with Pitch. He wanted to feel safe in their home; he wanted to be able to go on a walk with his lover without worry of an ambush. He also wanted Pitch to be happy. To not be scared and to be able to fulfill his purpose without ridicule.

This is what kept him going throughout all times Pitch had a panic attack, throughout the long nights of tirelessly gathering believers. Jack smiled as he thought of their future together. He jumped when he heard footsteps stomp down the hall. "Bailey? Bailey it's me honey." The dad? He was alive?  
He floated into the hallway where the man waited outside the bathroom door. The girl, Bailey, stepped out hesitantly. Her green eyes wide. "Are you going to hurt me again?" She squeaked "Oh no baby girl..." The father got on his knees to be at eye level with his daughter.  
"No more belt. No more drinking. I'm so sorry Bailey, I was sick for a long time. I'm sorry I hurt you."  
Bailey said nothing, seeming to think on her father’s words. She gnawed at her lip, wanting desperately to believe the man who once loved her but not yet daring to hope. Jack watched in wonderment as the little girl kissed her father's cheek, smiling slightly even through her tears. Had she really forgiven him? Jack wondered. It seemed too fast. He-Pitch appeared next to him. "I thought you were gonna..." He hesitated, not wanting to anger Pitch. "I was. I truly was but I decided to give him a chance."  
Jack cocked his head, eyes wide.  
"Why?"  
He watched in amazement as a small smile pulled itself across Pitch's lips. "For you, my love."  
His heart fluttered. "F-for me?"  
"Yes," Pitch said with a nod. "You were so willing to accept every part of me, even the darker side. Never in my life had a dreamed of such acceptance." Pitch pulled Jack close, his arms tightening around him almost to point of hurting him.  
"I figured I would meet your acceptance with compromise." His voice low in between them.

Jack returned the hug fiercely, burrowing his face in his love's chest.  
"I love you Pitch Black." His voice shook with emotion. "So damn much."  
Hands loosened around his waist and made their way to his cheeks, tilting his head up. When his eyes met Pitch’s, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would do anything for this man. And he knew now that Pitch would as well. Even at the expense of his own codes.  
"And I love you Jack Frost. More than I can ever make you understand."

The two of them spent the rest of the night together not searching for believers, but rather they had fun.  
A date as humans would call, but to them, it was an extravaganza.  
Pitch showed Jack the world of astronomy-pointing out various constellations and planets. They decided that Pollux and Castor were "their" constellations. Two shapes forever bounded in a lonely universe.  
Jack took Pitch ice-skating on his favorite pond in Burgess. To his surprise, Pitch was graceful on the ice. The two of them danced for hours on end, smiling more than either of them had in their entire existences.  
But as they always do, the good times ended.

As the two of them strolled through the moonlit forest back to the entrance of their home, they heard a rustle.  
Jack immediately readied his staff with Pitch taking a defensive stance next to him.  
"Hello?" Jack called out.  
'This is where we met Bunny ' he realized. Fear curled in his gut, causing Pitch to glance at him.  
"What's wro-"  
"NOW!"  
Jack was knocked the ground as a group of people bounded from the bushes. Hands, no, _paws_ ripped his staff away from him and shoved his flailing body into a sack.  
"NO!" He screamed.  
The Guardians. This had to be them.  
"Don't you dare hurt Pitch!"  
"If you harm him, I swear, I’ll-"  
His words were cut off. He felt the sack being tossed, his stomach flipped.  
He landed hard on a wooded floor in a room that smelled like...cookies?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always,thank you so much for the Kudos and comments.  
> Until next time,I tip my orange beanie to you all.


	5. Black and White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was edited March 23rd, 2020.  
> Changes made:fixed errors, added sentences, and I added a short scene between Jack and Sandy towards the end

Jack rolled and twisted and stretched his body out as much as possible in hopes of loosening the bag that held tight around him.  
The sack did not budge.  
Growls escaped his lips at his futile endeavors. Even though he should be scared, for Pitch and himself, all he felt now was pure rage.  
How _dare_ they?  
Just when he felt happy, right when he found someone who could see him and love him and someone he could love back, it was ripped away from him.  
He wanted to scream at the injustice of it all, and scream he did.  
"Let. Me. OUT!"  
His fists gripped the fabric and tried to rip it apart in desperation.  
"You better let me go right now, or I'll-" "Or you'll what?" A familiar accented voice interjected.  
"Can’t very well shoot me without your little stick now can ya?"  
Tap, tap, tap  
Jack's face flushed in rage. That piece of shit rabbit had his staff.  
"Bunny, Bunny, do not anger our new friend further." Another voice spoke outside his prison but with a different accent. Russian maybe?  
The cinch above him finally loosened.  
Jack closed his eyes against the bright light and leapt out, nearly falling on his face.  
"Whoa! Easy friend, easy " Giant hands steadied him.  
He quickly jerked away from the unwanted touch.  
"We are not friends." He hissed, his eyes finally meeting that of his captor.  
He was a large man. Not as tall as Pitch, but still tall. And wide. Not really fat, although he did have a bit of a gut, but really muscular. The guy was huge.  
Behind him was a giant globe like the one Pitch had. Except while Pitch's globe had a few thousand scattered black dots, this globe had millions of shining yellow spots. A curl of bitterness formed inside him. Even after all their hard work, the Guardians’ believers stilled outnumbered them a million to one. 

"Give me back my staff. Now."  
The man's bright blue eyes crinkled. "Ah, ve vill". Relieved, Jack held his hand out. "But not just yet."  
Excuse me? Down his hand went. "We give you stick, you run off-da? So! Instead we make announcement then give stick." Did this oaf really just call his staff-the item that was basically his source of power, a stick?  
He rolled his eyes and that's when he finally noticed-it wasn’t just Bunny and the other guy Jack assumed to be North in the room. There was a birdlady with four other little bird ladies hovering around her, and a real short yellow guy. The Toothfairy and Sandman.  
Since they had yet to speak, Jack ignored them for now despite their curious gazes aimed at him.  
"And what announcement could that possibly be?" Without his staff to lean against, he just crossed his arms awkwardly.  
North smiled a little too widely for his tastes "You are now-a Guardian!"  
Wait, what?  
He jumped when trumpet horns blasted in his ears. Dozens of little elves ran around him with presents and gifts; North held a giant book in his hand and Bunny rolled his eyes and the Toothfairy came forward to congratulate him and-it was too much!  
His hands covered his ears trying desperately to quiet the cacophony of noises. “STOP!"  
Everyone froze. Not literally but they at least quieted down in their shock.  
Jack glared daggers at everyone in the room. "I am NOT going to be a Guardian.  
This- I mean- are you _insane_? First of all, you can’t just kidnap someone and expect to all of a sudden join your group! In what universe is that logic sound? Second and most importantly, you people are Pitch's enemies." He hissed fiercely. "And as such, you're my enemies."  
North stood silent for a moment as Bunny fumed. "See! Told ya it was pointless. This kid sure as heck ain't Guardian material."  
Jack huffed. "My name is Jack you overweight Kangaroo. And even if I was, I don’t want to be a Guardian thank you very much. All you people do is trample over other spirits to hoard all the belief for yourself."  
Bunny scoffed loudly, making Jack sneer. He was about to insult him further when suddenly fingers entered his mouth.  
"Your teeth! They're so pretty!" The Toothfairy squealed as she pulled his lips this way and that way to get a better look at them. "Oh, what perfect incisors and molars!"  
What. The. Hell. These people were actually nuts, Jack concluded.  
He shook his head, trying to shake the woman off-biting her fingers for good measure.  
"Ouch!" She yanked her hands back. "Well that was rude." One of her mini fairies tried to peck Jack's face in anger at him for hurting her boss.  
Jack merely huffed and smacked her away.  
The Toothfairy's look of horror as she caught her helper didn’t bother Jack in the slightest-she was the one that invaded his personal space afterall.  
"You shouldn't have stuck your fingers in my mouth!"  
The fairy looked ready to scold him as if he has been the rude one when North interjected.  
"It seems ve on wrong foot." He placated. "Jack walk with me."  
Oh joy. Walking with the infamous North, what great fun. Still, it’d probably better than staying with the kangaroo and tooth freaks. He followed the red man begrudgingly. 

The two of them strolled through the various hallways of the workshop as North began to explain. "You see Jack, Man in Moon chose you to be Guardian right after Bunny saw you with Pitch. And I think he did that so we could rescue you. Pitch is very bad, Jack. He has tricked you, you understand? Pitch has no heart to care for you with." Once they reached a large door, North opened it and led Jack into what he assumed was his office. A small breeze came from the open window; oh, if only he had his staff. He could fly out and get away from these lies.  
There was so much wrong with what just came out of this guy's mouth.  
"You...you have no idea what you're talking about. I tried to talk to the Moon for a decade and he never said a word to me. Now all of a sudden he thinks he can just make me a Guardian and I'll be okay with that? Hell no. Pitch is the one who rescued me, not you lot. He's the one that gave me a purpose, not the damn Moon.  
And Pitch has a heart! You'd know that if you ever bothered to talk to him. Instead you all beat him down just for doing what he was meant to do!"  
North stared at the boy in shock. The poor lad was already so entangled in the Boogeyman’s web. He explained as gently as he could, "Jack, he has no purpose. There is nothing he is meant for as you say. Pitch Black is evil and conniving-we've been trying to stop him for centuries. Sandy, Tooth, Bunny, and I have only done what we had to do. The world has no place for an evil being such as he. But with you and your powers, we could finally destroy him for good!" The man smiled joyfully at the thought. "And you'd be free from his lies!"  
North’s smiled disturbed him far beyond anything he had seen before. How could a supposed protector of children smile at the thought of a fellow spirit getting murdered? "You're blind! The world isn’t black and white. There is no good and evil, there’s just balance. But of course none of you would realize that. The scale has been tipped in your favor for way too long. You have no clue of the suffering you've put him through." His voice dropped low, filling with pure hate.

"I will never, _ever_ let you destroy Pitch. "

He needed to escape. Now. He turned from the man and ran.  
He was so done with North and his delusions. His incomprehensible views of black and white. Why didn’t he understand? Fear was essential to the "good" that the Guardians brought. North obviously needed to be knocked down about a dozen pegs from his pretentious power trip.  
Jack didn’t look back as North called for him-his voice filled with confusion. Even now, Jack scoffed, the man didn’t get it.  
Oh well, he decided, he would soon. They all would. But first things first, he had to get his staff back.  
Bunny and Toothiana were talking. Bunny seemed angry as usual while Tooth seemed more worried.  
Off to the left Sandy was leaving. Good-one less annoyance to deal with. Though how much trouble could a three foot dude made out of sand really be?  
He was probably leaving to spread his dreams. It was sunset afterall. Geez, how long had Jack been here?

"That kid is a menace. He shot me and nearly bit your fingers off!" Jack figured he might as well eavesdrop while figuring out a way to get the kangaroo's paws of his staff. "Well, he was rude about it but I probably scared him. I just couldn't help it! They're so pretty...it is odd that Manny chose him though. He seems a bit unstable." Of course I am! He wanted to shout. You people kidnapped me!  
Hey, dont lash out, he told himself. Just stay calm, get your staff, and get back to Pitch.Oh,I hope he's okay. He's probably worried sick.

"A bit? The kid's off his rockers!"  
Plan, plan, gotta make a plan.  
His eyes scanned over the dozens of elves running around with toys or cookies in hand. He didn’t see anything helpful until he found a fuitcake.  
Once, years ago, he tried to eat one and nearly broke his jaw. Those things were hard as rocks.  
Plus, nothing says "I hate you and hope you die" quite like a fruitcake.  
The elves didn’t notice him head toward the table, dazed in their sugar highs.  
He hefted the ridiculously heavy cake up and snuck back behind the globe, close enough for him to hit Bunnymund but blocked in such a way that Tooth wouldn't see him until it was too late.  
He took one step forward and heaved it over the bunny's head, ready to drop it.  
Tooth's eyes met his-Bunny saw her eyes flicker and turned toward Jack. "What the-"  
CLUNK  
Down the kangaroo went!  
Before Toothiana could react, Jack made a dash for his staff and hovered in the air triumphantly.  
"I would say it was nice seeing you, but it hasn't. Don’t worry though! I'll be back." He gave her a rueful smirk, one he learned from Pitch, and took off into the air.  
The cool wind propelled upward, allowing him to zoom through the workshop until he found an open window. Unfortunately, that open window was in North's office.  
He made it to the windowsill when a large hand gripped his arm.  
"Jack. Stay. Ve can help you! Ve can fix you." North's eyes were full of concern. Concern that the man didn’t even realize just how misplaced and backwards it was. He almost pitied the man.  
Jack jerked his arm out of the grip and glared at the man in disgust. "The only one around here that needs fixing is you four."  
He fell back, knowing Wind would catch him like always.  
He left North behind without a second glance.  
Finally, he was on his way home. He hollered with joy. “Woo-!” Jack was yanked down into the snow below. A rope had snagged his ankle. “Ah!” He hit the ground hard.   
The Sandman was staring at him, seemingly in a mix of shock and curiosity. “What the hell!” Jack tried to take the rope off but his fingers just slipped through the sane yet it held tight around his foot. He sat up and crossed his arms, frustrated.   
Sandy made a question mark appear though Jack had no idea what he was asking. “What am I doing?” He guessed. Sandy nodded. “Escaping, that’s what. You people are insane.” The man just tilted his head, confused. “You know they say the craziest people are those who don’t know they’re crazy. First off, you thought kidnapping me was a good idea and-“ Sandy shook his head and made a picture of North. “Fine,” Jack huffed. “It wasn’t your idea but still! You had a part in it so it’s your fault too. Kidnapping is not a good way to get someone on your side. And besides,” he rolled his eyes. “Why does there have to be sides? The whole Guardian thing is supposed to be about protecting kids, right?” He waited for a nod before he continued. “Well fear protects. So why the hell does Pitch get hunted down for taking a part in protecting kids?” Sandy blinked, eyes wide. Apparently he had never thought of that before. Jack shook is head. “Look man, you don’t seem as bad as the rest of the Guardians. You probably don’t want to tarnish that by re-kidnapping me. Just let me go and…” Well he didn’t really want to make a promise he couldn’t keep. Truth be told this guy really didn’t seem that bad but of course he probably had a history with Pitch that he didn’t know about yet.   
He readied his staff to fight his way out but to his surprise, Sandy let him go willingly. He made a picture of the “thinker man” statue. “You’ll think about what I said?” He asked, bewildered.   
Sandy nodded though there was something more in his eyes that Jack couldn’t read. “Well…thanks.” Not waiting to see if it was a trap or something, he took off, leaving the contemplating Sandman behind. 

Okay, so out of all the Guardians, it seemed Sandman was the least awful. He’d have to ask Pitch about him later. Jack couldn't wait to get back to him. He had missed Pitch so much. Was he okay?  
In a few hours he made it back to the Burgess woods where the hole that lead to the lair was. Or at least, where he thought the hole should be. There was nothing there. No broken bedframe (which he still didn’t understand the purpose of it being there in the first place),no gaping void, just dirt.  
Was he in the right spot? He could have sworn he was. Then again, it was the middle of the night-he could be in the wrong place without realizing it.  
"Pitch?" He called, glancing around the forest.  
When there was no answer, he began to worry.  
Heart beating fast, he flew through the forest, eyes scanning desperately for the familiar sign of home.  
Where was it?!  
"Pi-!" He coughed, something had flown into his mouth. It was itchy and grainy-made his throat sore. He spat the odd texture into his hand.  
Black sand?  
The moon shown behind him, illuminating the grains.  
Jack looked back and forth between the moon and the sand. A deep wave of terror seeped into his veins...  
"What did you do?"  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit for the fruitcake idea goes to Deadrose-it was too funny for me to not insert it somewhere.  
> As always,see you next time!


	6. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Pitch's point of view when Jack got taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was edited on March 23rd, 2020  
> Changes made:fixed errors, a few added sentences, and an added paragraph from Sandy's POV

"NOW!"  
Pitch was shoved to the ground, rolling from the impact.  
His mind whirled, what was going on?  
Jack-he had to find Jack. He jumped up as he heard Jack cry out.  
"Don’t you dare hurt Pitch!"  
There. Straight ahead. He pushed his way through the forest shrubs only to see Jack being shoved into a sack. The Guardians. All four of them.  
In a millisecond they bounded through North's portal.  
He froze, unable to believe what happened.  
The only one left was Bunnymund; he hadn't seen Pitch through the shrubs but his ears were cocked in his direction. He knew exactly where Pitch was.  
Bunnymund twirled his boomerang in his hand and-wait. That was Jack's staff!  
"G'day mate." The Pooka stated with a threatening smirk.  
With two quick taps, he was gone to the ground below.  
Pitch stared blankly at the little flower the rabbit's departure left behind.  
He stood there not moving a muscle. Not breathing.  
Even the air was still, as if recognizing his predicament.

And then all at once the weight of the situation crashed over him like a tsunami crashing over a beach.  
Jack was gone.  
Kidnapped-in the hands of his mortal enemies.  
In an instant, the breaths he had been holding flooded into his lungs. He began to hyperventilate. Pitch fell to his knees as his hands curled through his hair, straining his scalp.

"NO!" He cried. Not Jack! He couldn't lose him! He couldn't-his heart was pounding so hard. He stared at his hands as they shook; his breath began to flutter like a dying moth.  
His heart felt like a rock rolling in his chest but his head felt light and foggy. He couldn't think, all he knew was blind panic.  
They could be doing anything to Jack right now. They could be throwing him into a hot prison, they could be trying to brainwash him into hating Pitch or erasing his memories or-he couldn't breathe. He was trapped in concrete and couldn't escape.  
Pitch Black laid on the ground-collapsed, unable to move. His limbs trembled.  
The beatings of his heart slowed to flutters.  
Man in Moon shone above him through the clouds. He was watching. He always was. Every night he’d view Pitch's suffering and never did a thing to stop it.  
Pitch growled as a familiar feeling of bitterness surrounded him.  
Sometimes he truly hated Manny. After all, He created Pitch to help the mortals. To keep them alive and teach them and provide courage.  
But as the decades passed, it seems Manny thought his creation had grown a bit too powerful. And so the Guardians were created.

It wasn't fair. Pitch had done nothing wrong!  
And yet he was punished.  
Years of imprisonment, decades of isolation, centuries of being thrown to the gutter for doing only precisely what he was made to do.  
But now with Jack, he could bear it. Even with his anxiety and their missteps, Jack made him happy for the first time in centuries. He loved how understanding Jack was. How willing he was to support Pitch even though at times he didn’t agree with it.  
He loved Jack so much.  
He would not just sit here and let his love be taken from him.  
Anxiety wouldn't save Jack. Panicking and shaking wouldn't magically bring his snowflake back. And it sure as hell wouldn't make Pitch stronger.

He couldn't give in, not this time.  
He had to snap out of this. Not just for Jack, but for himself.  
Pitch grit his teeth as he forced his weak legs to stand up. His hands still shook but he quickly jabbed his nails into his wrists, not flinching at the sharp points that helped snap him back into reality.

He couldn't take all four of them by himself, what he needed was an army. It didn’t have to be a big or very powerful army, it just needed to distract the Big Four long enough to get Jack.  
Pitch stood in his library, contemplating what to do. It's not like he had friends to ask for help. Maybe he could try to create shadow clones? He used to do that years ago when he had all he had all the power in the world. They could travel and keep an eye on certain villages and countries that were at risk for wars or corruption. Perhaps he was strong enough to try again.  
Pitch focused on thoughts of separation. 'Feel yourself, your shadow, separate and divide. Let it become its own three dimensional being...'  
He felt a tugging on his back. A steady tug becoming stronger and then snapping off.  
He turned around to see his exact shape in the form of a shadow man.  
It worked! The shadow stood still, waiting for a command.  
"Are you strong enough to fight?" The shadow neither shook his head nor nodded. "Can you move?" Pitch prompted. The dark figure nodded, his stance widening into a more defensive stance.  
"Right punch."  
The movement was clumsy and slow as the dark fist shot outward.  
Once completing the command, it reverted back into a defensive stance.  
Hmm. Maybe this wouldn't work. These meager skills would barely bring the Guardians pause. Nevertheless, Pitch kept going. Taking deep breaths, he created another soldier.  
And another.  
And another.  
Soon there was a dozen men around Pitch. Still and unmoving, too weak to fight perhaps, but able to move if he commanded it.  
As he was about to create another, a shudder ran through his body and his knees went weak. This was taking way more out of him than he thought. He needed to find a different route.  
Taking a long calming breath, Pitch called all his men back. When the last one was gone, he felt like himself again. Less empty.

He couldn't divide himself-he wasn’t strong enough. What other options were there?  
He needed something that was strong enough to fight and had enough intelligence to make its own tactical decisions. But it had to be something that didn’t take up his own essence since it would make him weak. What he needed was a Nightmare.  
Pitch scoffed. Right, creating Nightmares were impossible.  
He thought of the theory years ago. Living creatures made from fear incarnate that had just enough sentience to obey any of his commands. After all, if Sandman could create living dreams, why couldn't he create living nightmares? Unfortunately, he had no sand to control and his own shadows were too weak to use as a substitute. Even if he was stronger, he had no idea how to go about trying to create life.  
A little thought niggled at him though. What if he could infuse the two? If he could force a shadow into some of Sandy's dream sand, would it create a creature? One that he could use?  
He had to find out.  


He crept out of his lair only to be struck by the early afternoon sun. Pitch hissed against the rays before sinking into the shadow of a tree.  
Where could he go where it was nighttime?  
It should be early evening in Russia if his hazy memory of the correlation between geography and time was correct.  
And so, he melted into the tree's shadow. But not just into it, past it. Past the ocean, past the woods, and into the spiky shadows of Moscow.  
He was right! The last rays of sunlight had been replaced by a dark blue sky.  
And with that blanket of night, came the golden strings of dream sand.  
Already Sandman was at work, perched on his own little cloud as he interconnected and looped the ropes of dreamsand throughout the scattered houses and apartments that contained sleeping children.  


He needed to get to a strand without being spotted. Sandy had given Pitch more than one beating that ended with broken ribs. He did not want a repeat experience if it could be avoided.  
His eyes settled on a house as far from Sandy's main cloud as possible. It was a good distance away so Sandy would be slow to reach him, but close enough that a single strand flowed into one of the windows.  


Pitch melted into the shadows and pictured a shadow casted by the child's bed or dresser-and there he appeared.  
A little boy, about ten or so, was curled up in his bed smiling slightly as the shape of a dinosaur swirled above his head. Ah. If creating Nightmares is indeed possible, then this should be easy.  
Pitch's hand reached out, index finger extended as he thought of the fear the child would experience if the cute little T-rex suddenly turned on him.  
Just before his finger made contact, he also separated the smallest bit of shadow from himself. The fear from the now squirming child and his shadow met the sand and together the light dissolved to reveal..."What a pretty little Nightmare." Pitch couldn't help but coo, his eyes bright in delight.  


The creature became a horse. Unexpected, but then again this idea working was also unexpected. Fierce yellow eyes met his and Pitch felt...something. Like a connection. Which makes sense since it had some of his own shadow but still, he got the feeling this Nightmare was actually alive, not just a mindless minion. It was aware.  
"Can you hear me?” He asked hesitantly, not sure what to expect. The little Nightmare flew to his hand, bowing her head.  
Her?  
...yes. Pitch decided. She obviously had some sort of awareness so she didn’t deserved to be called an it.  
"Can you grow bigger?" Afterall, he needed a full-sized horse if the Guardians were going to fight them. Yet he felt a tug of guilt-he didn’t want this creature to be harmed. He had given her life, it didn't feel right to create her just to send her to die.  
His conflicting thoughts slowed as she grew into a magnificent stag, one bigger than any human horse. She was glorious.  
He ran his fingers through her surprisingly soft black mane, smiling slightly.  
"Your name is Onyx." He declared.  
She flipped her hair as if in glee over her new name. Pitch chuckled, his heart that seemingly only had room for Jack, now had a spot for Onyx.  
"Let's go girl, follow me." As fast as he could, he darted into the shadows and reappeared in a house down the street. She was only a few seconds behind. Rather impressive, Pitch thought. He nuzzled her head once she came out of the shadows next to him. "Good girl."  
Now, to make another.  
This child dreamt of a pretty dress. Perhaps to wear to school. Pitch imagined her pretty dress ripping in front of the whole school and touched the sand. This time, he left out his own shadows. Would that have any affect?  
Same as before, a little Nightmare appeared.  
"Grow." And it grew. But he could tell, there was no connection. No spark of life in its eyes.  
He nodded, accepting this.  
This Nightmare he could use. Onyx though, he didn't want to sacrifice her.  
And so they moved on to the next house, and the next. Creating more and more Nightmares but Pitch withheld his own shadow for all of them.  
When he had made fifty, he decided it was time to leave. He didn’t want Sandy to get suspicious.  
He took the long way back to Burgess, on the back of Onyx with the others following close behind.  
He needed to think.  


Jack would most likely be in the pole. North always was the leader of the lot. Maybe he was in the Warren though? Bunny took one of his tunnels instead of North's portal after all.  
He decided to attack the Pole first. It just felt right.  


Pitch sighed as old strategies came back to him. In all honesty, he wished he didn’t have to do this. He would have been content in sharing the world's belief, he really would have. The world needed fear obviously, but too much of anything is a bad thing. Some people went insane due to too much fear. He was the cause of far too many mental patients over the years.  
But, too much wonder or dreams were bad too. When you spend all your time dreaming of something different, you forget about the real world around you. You lose touch with reality and think you’re better than you actually are. From there life is a disappointing, depressing mess.  
By now Pitch knew balance was important.  


For years now though, there hadn’t been balance. Not even close.  
It just wasn’t fair. Then again, nothing ever was.  
As long as he had Jack though, things would be okay.  
Pitch needed him back.  


Once in Burgess, Pitch sent his army to the lair. He wanted to take a walk. Onyx, ever loyal, stayed by his side.  
He appreciated her presence and gently stroked her mane as he walked.  
His thoughts hummed as he thought of different ways to break Jack out. He could send in a few Nightmares and search the rooms while they were distracted, or lure them outside then break in, perhaps he could frighten them by darkening their precious globe.  
Unbeknownst to him, Onyx left a small trail of black grains as she walked. Moonlight surrounded them and made the sand glisten.  
Footsteps. Pounding the ground fast and getting closer; he-Pitch was tackled to the ground.  


"Pitch!" A familiar childish but adolescent voice. Jack?  
His eyes opened to see his snowflake, staff in hand and unharmed. The boy gripped him in a tight hug.  
"I missed you so mu-!" Onyx headbutted Jack away from Pitch and stood over him, not letting Jack move.  
"Onyx!" Pitch called. “It’s okay girl, he’s the reason I created you." Shocked, she backed away and bowed to the child.  
Satisfied, Pitch yanked Jack into a hug. "How did you get out? I was going to get you in the morning."  
Jack dropped his staff to burrow into Pitch's chest. "I hit Bunny with a fruitcake. Couldn't wait for you, I had to get out."  
The Boogeyman nodded (he'd have to ask about the fruitcake later) as he lifted Jack's chin. "Did they harm you?" His voice deathly low.  
Jack couldn't help but find that protective and dark tone incredibly hot.  
"No. But North is delusional. He has no idea that-"  
"Shh." Pitch said. "We can both talk later. For now, rest."  
Jack nodded, leaning into his love. It felt so good to feel those arms encircling him again. So warm and safe. He giggled when Pitch picked him up and carried him back to the lair bridal style. He had missed Pitch so much.  
That night the two of them made love like never before. Each caress and kiss contained every single emotion that they had felt over the past 24 hours. The heartbreak, the anger, and every second of longing and love.  
The pair slept deeply in each other's arms. Both content to be with their love again.  
*  
Back at the Pole, Bunny held an ice pack to his head. "Now you see why the brat isn't Guardian material?"  
North stroked his beard in thought. "Ze is lost. Tangled in Pitch's web. I think we can save him if he gets out of web." The rabbit scoffed. "And how do you propose we do that? Killing Pitch?"  
"Perhaps," North shrugged. "But we can’t kill fear, it comes back. Maybe imprison him? Then keep Jack somewhere too where he can’t hurt himself. Some place for him to stay until he's rehabilitated."  
Bunny had to admit, the idea had merit.  
"All right then."

 

Meanwhile Sandy continued his work, constantly tapping his fingers as his thoughts ran a mile a minute.  
Was he right to let Jack go? He had just handed back his enemy an apparently critical asset. He could have just ruined whatever North and Bunny had planned. He wasn’t quite sure why he did what he did but part of him knew that keeping the frost spirit trapped was certain to not help anyone. Still, he definitely was not happy that Pitch had an ally. If the Shadow Man had one, who's to say he wasn’t building an army? They could not let that happen. That devil could not have believers. Kids needed to dream and live happily, not in fear. They had to stop Pitch, that much was certain, but kidnapping an innocent, if a bit misguided frosting, was not the way to go about it. Oh well. He would just have to trust that Man in Moon had a plan. He always knew best. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it didnt make sense, Onyx is different because she has some of Pitch's shadow in her. So she can transport through shadows with him,she has a sense of awareness,can understand what's happening around her in an animalistic sense,and is very loyal to Pitch.  
> Without his shadow,she would be like the rest.


	7. Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut,fluff,dialogue filler and angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys SO much for over 100 kudos!!!
> 
> This chapter was edited on March 25th, 2020.   
> Changes made: Fixed errors and a few added paragraphs.

He was awake but he wasn’t moving anytime soon. The soft pillow and grey silk sheets beneath him were wonderful but the warm fingertips gliding up and down his naked abdomen were even more so. Jack was far too comfortable to move.  
Pitch, it seemed, had other plans.

The warm fingertips flew lower, tracing the young sprite's inner thighs.  
The boy sighed in contentment but keened as those gentle fingers brushed against his sore cock. "Piiitch." He whined, his eyes finally opening to plead to his lover who had far too much stamina. "I can’t take another round, you totally wrecked me last night." Jack's legs flexed as the light strokes turned into a firm grip that loosened and tightened around him. Although his body was sore and exhausted, it seemed his dick was still eager for more as it hardened in Pitch's hold.

"I'll be gentle." Pitch whispered.

Jack merely whimpered in response as the grip glided up and down with deliberate firmness. Trembles shot through him-he was so sensitive right now. He was already twitching. Resigned to yet another round, though truly he was more than willing, he simply breathed out a weak "O-okay. Just take it slow."

Jack arched with a gasp as Pitch moved on top of him and gnawed at Jack's nipples.  
"Of course my little snowflake." The gnawing devolved into delicate sucking. Delightful goosebumps cascaded down his pale flesh. His hands curled into Pitch's soft hair, growing so beautifully needy for Pitch.  
Only ever for Pitch.  
The grip around his hard member slowed into long, teasing strokes-too slow. The individual fingertips gliding up and down, hardly making contact. He needed more.  
"Pl-please," the boy panted "mo-ooore." He groaned helplessly as the hand moved away from his dripping cock and to his hollow ass. Without warning, a lubed finger dug into his sore walls.  
"More Jack? I thought you wanted me to be slow and-" A second finger pierced him. "Gentle." Jack's eyes closed tightly; he knew a smirk had slithered upon his love's features.  
He raised his knees and forced himself onto Pitch's fingers. "Changed my-nngh...mind."  
He cried out as his prostate was hit, a burst of white briefly clouding his vision, heat flooded his body.  
"That really is too bad."  
Empty, hollow, no heat. Wait, Pitch took his fingers out, why?  
"Pitch!" Jack cried, breathless.  
"You asked me to be slow and so I shall." Mischief danced like wild flames in Pitch's golden eyes.  
"I'll be gentle and take," a single finger pressed against Jack's base. "My," the finger slid down to his tip. "Time." A single line of pleasure sliding back up.  
 _Oh_ Pitch was such a tease. Jack loved it.  
Fine, two can play at this game-Jack can tease just as well as Pitch can.  
While Pitch continued his frustratingly delicate ministrations, Jack adjusted himself into the most fuckable position he could think of. He pouted his lip, arched his back ever so slightly, and spread his legs. He was totally open and exposed, just waiting to be filled.   
"But Pitch," and for the final touch, he lifted his eyes and stared longingly at his lover. "I need you."  
Pitch stared at him, his golden eyes wide and conflicted. Obviously he wanted to drop all the teasing and take Jake right then but could he really let himself be manipulated like this?   
He glanced at those innocent blue eyes and muttered “Oh damn it all.” in defeat.   
How could Pitch refuse?  
Simple, both knew he couldn't. Pitch was such a softy when it came to Jack. The frost boy adored him for it and had no shame taking playful advantage of it.  
With a growl, Pitch captured Jack's lips in his. "Oh, you are devious."  
Jack chuckled. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."  
Soft hands held steady around Jack’s waist. His hands were so large that they completely encircled the boy. The hold was strong- strong enough to crush if such a decision was ever made but Jack had never felt safer. Pitch would never hurt him. “That I do." The words were so quiet, but so full of raw emotion. Jack's heart fluttered. He was so, so glad he had Pitch in his life.  
Two fingers entered him once again without warning. Jack groaned at the sudden motion but was incredibly pleased as Pitch began to stretch him out.  
"Ready for more?"  
Jack nodded eagerly, breathless with anticipation. A third finger was added.  
He felt full but not quite-he needed more.  
"E-enough prep." He panted. "More. Now."  
Pitch chuckled at his young lover's demands.  
"Very well, Jack."  
Oh, he loved the way Pitch said his name.

Jack screamed in pleasure as Pitch finally entered him. His cock was so much better than his fingers. His own hard-on twitched as Pitch's stomach ran over it with his thrusts. Jack's body shuddered at the overwhelming stimulation and moaned as teeth grazed his neck.

"May I mark you Jack?"

Jack's toes curled when his prostate was hit; his body was so tense as he tightened around Pitch-he could hardly think.  
"Of c-ah! course." He adored every bite, hickey, and bruise Pitch left on him.  
Teeth sank into his neck. "Pi-IIITCH!" He came hard, his arms pulled Pitch close as he shoved his hips onto the hard cock that still pounded into him-chasing a longer orgasm.  
Soon Pitch too couldn't last any longer and came inside Jack.  
Hot seed filled his hole to the brim and was left leaking when Pitch pulled out.  
Jack relaxed into the mattress, body unable to move.  
"That-that was great." He whispered, eyes drifting closed.  
Pitch smiled at his spent lover warmly as his tongue raked down Jack's cum covered chest. "Agreed."  
Once it was lapped up, he sneakily licked at a nipple-curious if the boy was too numb in his afterglow to feel it or not.  
Jack did, and his body quivered at the overstimulation. "Stop that right now or I'll freeze your head."  
Pitch laughed. "Oh? And I worked so hard on this hair style." He ran his fingers through his black locks with a dramatic flair.  
Rolling his eyes, Jack smiled as he sat up. "I'm sure you did. Now, I do believe it's time for breakfast-I'm starving."  
Nodding, Pitch stood up and raised his hands to call forth a shadow robe.  
Jack scoffed. "Lucky, I can barely lift my arms." The boy was joking, but as he stood to get dressed, his knees wobbled.  
Pitch quickly held him steady. "Well then, I guess I'll just have to carry you." He stated calmly as he hefted the indignant frostling bridal style to the dining room.  
Jack was plopped into the cushiony chair, mouth agape as he stared at Pitch.  
"I cannot believe you just did that." His arms crossed-he looked a pouty five year old. Pitch’s eyes crinkled in amusement as he made Jack his own silk like robe of shadow. “I’ll take care of breakfast this time.” He pecked the young man’s forehead while he walked toward the kitchen.   
Jack loved it when Pitch made him a robe. They were so soft and smelled just like Pitch. He nuzzled into the thick fabric and smiled softly at the feeling of Pitch’s lips press gently against his head. “Thank you.” He mumbled, drowsy.  
He'd fall asleep right now if he wasn’t hungry. “

Pitch went simple today: oatmeal and fruit. Tea for him and coffee that was secretly decaffeinated for Jack. The boy had enough energy as it was.   
The dishes met the table with a slight clink.  
Jack didn’t even wait for Pitch's overly dramatic "Breakfast is served" before he yanked the bowl toward him and started eating. With every other bite he added an alarmingly large mound of sugar to the otherwise bland mush.  
Pitch stared at him, horrified. "Really Jack, the oatmeal is just as good with some fruit and a dash of cinnamon. Must you drown it in sugar?"  
Finally Jack slowed, an embarrassed blush flooding his cheeks.  
Wiping his mouth off on his sleeve, he apologized. "Ah, sorry. Couldn't be helped, sugar makes everything better."  
Pitch rolled his eyes, trying his best to hide an amused smile.  
Pitch began to eat his own breakfast. The two enjoyed the comfortable silence for a few minutes before Pitch broke it. They needed to talk about what happened yesterday.   
"I believe it's time for us to talk. Shall you go first or I?"

Jack nodded, figuring it was time too. "You can go first,” He said with a slight grin. “ I wanna know where the horse came from."  
He had been dying with curiosity last night.  
"Nightmare." Pitch corrected.  
"After you were taken, I'm afraid I lost it for a bit. But I was able to find the determination to save you and began to devise a plan to create an army."  
Jack's thumb brushed against Pitch's hand, trying to comfort him. He knew Pitch had probably had a panic attack while he was gone. He hated that he wasn’t there to bring him out of it, but it was good that he was growing strong enough to break himself out of them.

Pitch gave him a small appreciative smile before continuing.  
"At first, I tried to make an army out of shadow men, but I soon realized that it was too draining. Then I remembered an old hypothesis I came up with decades ago of combining my fear with the Sandman's dream sand."  
"Whoa, seriously?" Jack didn’t never got a chance to see how Sandy’s dreamsand worked, when it wasn’t used as a rope at least, but he guessed it wasn’t exactly simple. "So is that how the Nightmare was made?"

"Indeed. Though for my first attempt, I also infused a bit of my shadow with the combination of fear and sand. The result was rather extraordinary."  
Pitch gave a low whistle and the Nightmare that Jack had seen last night came through a shadow on the wall. Pitch smiled at the mare as he began to run his fingers through her mane. "This is Onyx. She is very different from the others."  
"How so?"

"She's alive." Pitch said with a proud smile. “She’s aware, has the ability to think and act, she's the only one like this. The others don't have a piece of my shadow-that's what gave her sentience. I've made fifty so far."  
Jack leaned over to pet her gently; she was really pretty. And thankfully this time she didn’t headbutt him.   
"So what are you going to do with them?"  
Pitch contemplated for a moment. "I was going to use them as a distraction to rescue you, but now...I suppose they can help us in our endeavors. I'm really not sure of their abilities and capabilities as of late. Perhaps they can be taught to gather fear with us? Nevertheless, that's for later." He waved off the idea and re-focused his gaze on Jack. "Now, what happened to you my dear? Did they hurt you?"

Jack said no and began to rant.  
"So I get taken to the North Pole, and North tells me that I'm supposed to be a Guardian." He scoffed with a shake of his head.  
"Obviously, I said they were nuts and then, get this, the Toothfairy sticks her finger in my mouth!" Jack looked like he wanted to gag.  
"It was so gross. Bunny was an ass as usual and North said he wanted to talk to me alone. I went with him and he starts going on and on about how you're pure evil," the boy's knuckles curled around the table edge. "I even tried to talk to him! I said you had a purpose, that you weren't heartless, and he just wouldn't listen to me! All he cared about was destroying you..." Jack felt a mixture of anger and sadness swirl in his chest. He would do whatever he could to make sure none of the Guardians laid their filthy hands on his Pitch.

"After I got my staff, I started flying back to Burgess, but the Sandman used a rope to yank me down. I’m guessing it was his dreamsand since my fingers kept going through it when I tried to take it off. I told him basically what I told North and he actually seemed to listen, which was a surprise. He let me go and said he’d think about what I said.” He shook his head, still shocked that one of the Guardians seemed to possibly have a brain. Granted the brain might be made of sand but still. “Oh yeah, I was going to ask you, what’s your history with Sandy? Out of all them he seems to be the least bad.”  
He looked up at Pitch, waiting for a response. Instead he sat as still as a statue.  
"Pitch?" Jack asked. "What's wrong?"  
Silence filled the room; Jack felt a sense of dread although he couldn't understand why.  
"It's my worst fear come true. They want to take you from me." The shadow man stood suddenly, his chair scraping harshly against the stone floor.  
"It isn't just them, Manny wants me out of the way as well. He's wanted me gone for a long time." Jack’s hand gripped his staff fiercely. “As for Sandman, well, he and I are on opposite sides of the same coin. He gives dreams, I give nightmares. He provides comfort, I provide fear. He’s used his lassoes many a times to fling me around the area. I’m just as surprised as you that he was willing to listen. Perhaps he will report back to the others, perhaps he plans to use you against me in his own way, perhaps, perhaps!” He yelled. He loathed guessing games.  
Onyx felt her master's growing restlessness and pressed her nose to his side in attempts to comfort him.  
A smile graced his lips but did not have the strength to reach his eyes.  
"Thank you,Onyx." His hand met her neck.  
"But why?" Jack asked, terribly confused and angry. "It isn't fair!" He would have to be wary of Sandman in the future now. Just like the others he was not to be trusted. Why couldn't they see that Pitch was needed? The world needed fear-for balance.   
“It never was fair, Jack. I was created in a time where life was horrifying for the humans. They needed someone to guide the fear where it was need so people wouldn't lose their minds. I guided it to many villages so that they would be too afraid to revolutionize against their ruler and destroy their country. I sent fear of families dying into the hearts of mothers and fathers so that they would do whatever possible, work as hard as they had to, for their children.  
But recently, things have been alright. Things are of course uncertain in America, but the people aren't as scared as they were when the country first formed. There's no major wars or plagues. People just don’t need me anymore..."

He sat back in his chair, defeated. "I suppose that is why Man in Moon feels that my time has come to an end."  
He would be erased, and Jack would move on. Or perhaps he should leave now so he wouldn't be forced to watch Pitch's pathetic downfall. That would probably be best. He didn’t want his departure to make Jack sad

Jack was enraged. At, for once, someone other than the Guardians. Man in Moon, as he understood it, was their creator. And a horrible one at that. He created Pitch, then planned to destroy him. He created Jack and never said a word to him other than his own name for ten whole years.  
Ten years of silence, of loneliness, doubt that he was even real.  
It was so wrong. He would not take this lying down and he won’t let Pitch either. The look in his lover's eyes scared him. It looked as if Pitch had already accepted his fate.

"We have to remind them that the world needs fear." Jack realized.  
"They've forgotten! They've spent too long only knowing the "good" side of things that they don't realize that without fear, their wonder and hope and dreams don’t mean anything."  
The sadness in Pitch's eyes melted into something akin to amazed caution.  
"You...you aren’t leaving me?"  
"Wha-? No! Why on Earth would I leave you?" What would it take for Pitch to understand that he was _worthy_ of love? What would it take for him to comprehend that Jack loved him enough to stay through thick and thin? His arms encircled around Pitch, pulling him into a rather awkward hug as Pitch was sitting and he was standing, but still. He held tight, dropping his staff so his nails could dig into Pitch’s back. He would make him understand. Somehow.   
Hesitantly Pitch returned the embrace.   
"I am never abandoning you Pitch Black. That's a promise."  
Their eyes stung against bittersweet tears.   
Pitch leaned his head against Jack’s collarbone. If someone like Jack was willing to fight for him, maybe he was worth more than Manny thought after all.   
"I believe in you Jack Frost. I always will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't my best chapter but I hoped you at least enjoyed the beginning and ending despite the messy middle.
> 
>  
> 
> Please let me know if you have any requests for the story and I'll try my best to include it somewhere.


	8. War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was edited on March 26th, 2020.  
> Changes made: a few added sentences and slight rearrangement.

Jack and Pitch gazed at the battlefield in shock. Dark smoke draped over the field as men in red and blue uniforms charged at each other. There was never a moment of silence; screams echoed across the landscape as did the pops of gunshots and the boom of cannons. Although they stood just at the edge of the forest, not quite in the battle, both spirits felt as if they were caught in a chaotic storm.

“I thought you said there weren’t any wars?” Jack flinched into Pitch’s side as the blast from a cannon rang in his ears. “I thought so too.” Pitch whispered as he wrapped a protective arm around Jack. “There’s so much fear…” Shock faded into a terrified joy for Pitch at that moment. He felt…powerful. He had almost forgotten what it was like. Energy flowed through his veins; his mind felt clearer than it had in years. The weight of weakness was lifted from his shoulders and Pitch stood tall. Jack felt Pitch’s posture change and pulled away to watch the slight transformation. Pitch’s gaze grew hard and full of discipline as he stood straight, hands clasped behind his back. Any hint of the old anxiety that once crippled him had slipped away. Before him was no longer a weak, crippled man.  
Rather, Jack thought, before him was a General.

Fear stretched across the field like an inky spiderweb. Pitch felt it surround and encase him a dark, slimy coating. There was too much. Too much for the humans to deal with properly. “Both sides are feeling great amounts of fear. I’ll work through it as best I can, but this is not like what we do with children, Jack.” Even his voice was clearer, Jack noticed. “The fear of soldiers is not simple like that of a child.” That was a lie. A soldier’s fear is very similar to that of children. The fear of the unknown, the fear of danger. And the fear of being alone. With soldiers though, it evolves to the fear of the unknown void that awaits in death. The fear of getting shot or stabbed and dying an agonizingly slow death. And the fear of dying alone. Or worse, being a lone survivor. The fear that if only they had done _more_ their fellow soldiers would be alive. He didn’t want Jack to watch these men die.

A warm hand cupped Jack’s cheek. “I need you to stay behind. Perhaps you can figure out why this war is happening? Or you can comfort these men’s children. I’m sure the type of fear they’re feeling requires comfort.” Jack really didn’t want to leave Pitch. Ever since he got kidnapped by the Guardians, he had become a little extra clingy to him. Which was really saying something since he’s been clingy ever since he met the guy. But he also so did not want to be here. Seeing humans die left and right, killing each other for some most likely pointless cause… he did not want to witness it. Pitch could handle it, and he respected him all the more because of it, but he couldn’t. And he really did miss visiting kids. It was even more important now since a lot of them were surely lost and scared without their fathers.

“Alright.” He sighed slightly. “How long do you think you’ll take?” He wasn’t even sure what Pitch’s process of “working through fear” entailed so he had no idea how long it would take. Pitch’s usually soft eyes turned calculating. “I truly don’t know. For this one battle, a day. But if this war gets worse, I’ll have to spend perhaps months guiding it all. No matter what though, I’ll come back to you.” Jack said nothing; Pitch’s golden orbs softened once again as they met Jack’s icy blue ones. “Do you trust me?” He asked. “Of course.” Jack said with no hesitation. Pitch leaned down to kiss him softly. “Then you know I’ll be back for you. Wait for me in the lair. Take care of Onyx and the other Nightmares; I don’t think they’re ready for mass amounts of fear just yet. You can do that for me, can’t you?” Jack’s heart ached and he didn’t understand why. He was the one who said they needed to remind the Guardians of fear so why did it hurt him that Pitch was finally doing it? He trusted Pitch; he knew that Pitch would come back for him. But…he had a bad feeling about this.  
“Jack?”  
He shook his head at himself. “Yeah. Yeah I can do that.” He gave Pitch what he hoped was a convincing smile; it would be okay- he was just being paranoid. “See you tomorrow!” He gave Pitch a quick peck on the lips and flew off. If he stayed, he probably wouldn’t have been able to leave.  
Pitch stood at the edge of the forest, confused. What was wrong with Jack? He thought the boy would be happy for him. Afterall, he took a deep breath of the pure fear that was spread across the field, he finally felt alive. He was done cowering, done hesitating. Now was the time to take back the power that was stolen from him. He was doing this for himself of course, but mostly for Jack. Why had he flown off life that? A flutter of concern went through him, but he forced himself to shake it off. He’ll talk to Jack as soon as he was done.  


The man cloaked in shadow stalked through the crowds of men- the sound of chaotic screams filled his ears; men were running back and forth without being aware of which side’s territory they were in. They were being stupid, blind from terror. He shook his head. Too much fear. Far too many were dying over idiotic mistakes. His sharp eyes focused on one particular soldier who sat in a fetal position, sobbing. The man was hiding in a ditch where no one could see him. He would rather hide than fight.  


“Why do you weep so?” The man sniffed, staring at the dark phantom with wide brown eyes. “A-are you the devil?” Trembling arms made the sign of the cross over his chest. Pitch resisted the urge to scoff. “I am not. I am simply a being of fear.” Pitch stated. “And you are smothered with it.” This man’s fear was like a putrid slime. A slime that was filled with denial and terror. “Of course I am! This-“ The man flinched at the deafening boom of a cannon. “This is war! I am not yet ready to die!” Pitch cocked his head. “All humans die.” He said frankly. “What makes death different for each is _how_ they die. And why. You can die today a hero, or a sniffling coward. You have the power to choose how you will be remembered as a man and as a soldier.” Pitch placed his hand over the young man’s pounding chest. “Do not be afraid to die.”  


A shudder of warmth went through Jason Reynolds at that moment. Fear was replaced with a sense of courage. He would die today. But his death would not be for naught, he realized as he thought of his younger siblings. They would grow up in a world that was finally truly free of Britain’s rule and interference. He wanted his siblings to be free. It was why he joined the army in the first place. This is the thought that comforted him as he picked up his fallen musket and joined his brothers. He fought courageously and ran through the battlefield with no hesitation. Private Reynolds saved the lives of seven men that day and met his end as he attempted to save an eighth.  


Pitch of course did not know this as he continued his mission. He made it a point to never get attached to humans. They lived such short lives; it just wasn’t worth it. But never let it be said that the Boogeyman was heartless to mortals.  


One would understand this if they simply watched the man carry out his purpose.  
His golden eyes focused upon a young man, a drummer boy, who laid on the ground-clutching a bullet wound in his stomach. The poor lad couldn’t have been more than sixteen; he radiated terror. A black cloud surrounded him that Pitch recognized- it was the smog that followed those who were about to die. Everyone, from doubters to the most passionate religious believers, feared the end when finally faced with it. It was a cold, merciless fear that eventually encompassed all as they stood at death’s door. 

There was no saving the boy, but Pitch couldn’t ignore his frightened whimpers either. He approached the drummer cautiously, unsure how he would react to Pitch’s appearance. To his surprise, his presence did not scare the boy further. His fear actually lightened. The young man stared at Pitch in something akin to cautious awe. 

“Are you the Angel of Death?” An odd had calmness overtook the lad’s features now that he knew he wouldn’t die alone. There was someone here to walk him to the other side. Pitch found he couldn’t tell him the truth. “Yes.” He answered. “Your time has come my boy. But do not be afraid.” The little soldier boy nodded in acceptance. It would be okay. “Will I get to see my Grandpa again? He died last year; I miss him. His name was Micah, just like me.” There was something about the steady way the boy talked even as he approached the end made something in Pitch clench. The purity of this boy’s spirit struck something in him. Pitch sat down next to the boy and wrapped a protective arm around him. “You will. Just go to sleep and you’ll wake up in a new place. Your Grandpa will be there to greet you, Micah.” The young man took his hands off his wound and let the blood flow. Color steadily drained from his face as he leaned into the Angel’s warmth. His eyes fluttered shut and he grew sleepy. Breathing was difficult and soon he was too tired to keep forcing his lungs to work. Micah felt the last breath leave his lips. He felt light, free. No longer covered in his sticky blood. He glanced beside him and saw that the Angel still held his body. Odd. Shouldn’t the Angel of Death be guiding him?

The thought left his head as a warm glow enveloped him. It was heaven, just like the angel said. He smiled and waved at the dark man even though he knew he couldn’t see him. In the next moment he was gone from the world.  
*  
Within a few minutes, Micah passed on. Truth be told, Pitch didn’t know if there was an afterlife. Even if there was, it wasn’t like he’d ever get to see it. But he hoped to Manny or God or whoever that there was. Though most of them were idiots, even humans didn’t deserve an eternity of nothingness.  
He laid the body down gently and continued his work.

War was always the same. It didn’t matter if the soldiers thought the fight was worth it or not, it didn’t matter who won. War always had the same ending. Fathers buried sons; sons buried fathers. Widows, orphans, unstable countries, economic collapse. It created a fear that he did not enjoy. A fear he found utterly disgusting. It made his throat dry, his palms clammy. His eyes darted around as the chaos continued around him.

The thrill died down for him and a shroud of sorrow encased him. Now he remembered why he gave up his plans to take over the world. Fear was a terrible thing. It protected yes, and sometimes provided an opportunity for courage, but at its core fear was destruction. At times like this, he hated what he was made to do. What he was made to be.  
Why did Manny make him when fear was this awful? He shouldn’t be here, doing this. He shouldn’t be making fear for children or be the one to carry young man across the threshold of death. It shouldn’t be him or anyone else. 

*

Man in Moon watched his creation with great sadness. Nothing was as he intended. Not for Pitch, not for the Guardians, and certainly not for Jack. Oh he had such plans for the frost spirit but as usual, nothing went according to plan. But what truly broke his heart was Pitch. The shadow man was so lost. Manny understood why but he was not happy about it. Perhaps a nudge in the right direction? He only hoped this interference actually aided the situation instead of ruining things like his last intervention. He thought announcing Jack’s Guardianship early would bring them all together at last, not cause the poor boy to hate them! With bated breath (that is, if a magic rock in the sky had breath to bate) he sent a moon beam down before Pitch.  
*

Pitch stared at the ray of moonlight that had suddenly appeared on the blood-spattered ground. It was the middle of the day, why was there…? He looked up. Oh. “So, for once you decided to answer me?” Pitch asked, resentment seeping into his voice. “Thousands of years of silence and you decide to answer me now?” What could Manny possibly want from him?

No response came. Pitched rolled his eyes and chuckled almost deliriously. “Nothing to say, hm? You think you can just show up and that’ll somehow remind me what I’m doing?”

Nothing.

For so many years Pitch had forced his feelings down, never letting them come up for air unless they clawed their way out like his anxiety. Now though? He just didn’t care anymore. The Nightmare King let his rage out for the first time in centuries.  
“I know damn well what your game is. You think that just because you can create spirits that you can fuck with their lives and choose when they get to be happy and when they get to be miserable. You made me and then you made the Guardians so there could be balance, right? I understand that! I don’t see why I’m the one who gets banished and tortured when it should be them! I’ve understood the balance for fifty years now, why am I still the only one who gets punished?! And Jack-”  
His voice broke. “Sweet innocent Jack. You yank him around like a damn puppet. He is not your toy nor your tool and neither am I! Just…” Why couldn’t they just be left alone? He and Jack weren’t going overboard with their believers. Pitch wasn’t overloading the world with fear- hell, he was calming it right now! And Jack never let his snowstorms get out of control. They both maintained their own balance. “Can’t you leave us be? I will carry out the purpose that you made me for and so will Jack. We’ll accept it, just leave us alone.” His plead turned steely. “We deserve that much considering all that you’ve done.”  
*  
Man in Moon was heartbroken. Yet again, his intervention helped nothing. Pitch was right though; the two spirits did deserve to be happy. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had to find a way to make his design work. Until then, he would respect Pitch’s wishes.  
The moon withdrew. None of the soldiers noticed the odd phenomenon as the battle waged on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment if you liked it or one telling me what you didn't like about it


	9. Mr. Sandman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandy spreads good dreams, but the result is not at all what he was expecting. 
> 
> Also, this chapter contains the same girl from Chapter 4. You may want to reread that chapter to refresh your memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was edited March 26, 2020.  
> Changes made: alterations regarding Sandy's paragraph so there's continuity from his interaction with Jack in chapter 5.

Man in Moon did what he did best, he waited and he observed. Afterall, the best plans were formed once all the puzzle pieces of a situation come together. He would find them, study them, and put together the picture he wanted them to form.

Perhaps he could use, no not use, that’s a terrible way to put it! Perhaps he could… _utilize_ one of the other Guardians so Jack would realize that they aren’t bad people. The Toothfairy? No, Jack doesn’t like her because she stuck her fingers in the boy’s mouth. Sandy then. The two of them had talked for a few minutes before. True, Sandy had let the boy go afterwards which was a bit of a surprise. Nevertheless, Manny was sure the two of them had some sort of bond. Perhaps the boy would try to listen if it came from Sandy? Yes, that might work. That is, if Jack actually takes the time to have a conversation with Sandy and not just blast him with ice.

Just a little nudge.  
*  
Golden sand cascaded across the village in string like whips. Sandman closed his eyes, assessing the state of the dozens of sleeping children. The yellow man frowned. No one was sleeping peacefully. Children were tossing and turning; some cried in their sleep, even the wives and mothers slept fretfully as they worried over their husbands. He had a lot of work to do.

While he often sent dreams of fantastical things like dinosaurs or the child being able to fly, he instead gave the children what he knew they wanted. Their fathers and brothers returning.  
Since these dreams were much more personal and unique for each child, Sandy could only create one at a time. But really, one comforted child could make all the difference.  
And so he guided a singular strain of sand into the cracked window of a humble home. There was nothing spectacular about the house that drew the Guardian’s attention, but rather the unique sense of ache within it. The strain soon found its way into the bedroom of a young dark headed boy-about ten years or so old. The lad frowned in his restless sleep, occasionally calling for someone. Poor thing. Sandman resisted the urge to sulk at the state of the boy. He hated seeing children in distress. He shook off the urge though; being sad helped no one. He needed to take action instead.

With a wave of his hands, the strand looped together to form a picture. Sandy watched in delight as his dream unfolded.

To his surprise, the figure that appeared in the dream was not the boy’s father, but his older brother. “I’m glad to see you again, little brother.” Sandy gaped at the sleeping boy. It had been a long time since he met a child who was able to make sound appear in a dream. He must have a strong mind. That, or he’s so desperate to see his brother again that a figment of the boy’s imagination merged with Sandy’s dream. In the dream, the boy sat up and hugged his brother fiercely.  
“You’re home! Are you back forever now? Is the war over?” The young adult ruffled his brother’s hair. “I sure am. No more war, no more worries. You better get some good sleep and we’ll play catch tomorrow, okay?” The brother of Jason Reynolds nodded and relaxed back into his bed.

Sandy grinned gleefully when the boy’s frown disappeared, replaced by a small smile. The boy was happy now. No more troubled thoughts. Feeling like his work here was done, the Guardian of Dreams moved onto the next house.

Similar to the last house, the bedroom that held the little girl gave off an odd aura. It held fear more so than ache. Was she afraid that her father wouldn’t return? He hated the feeling of fear. It made his throat close and his chest tighten. Fear was like an uncurable sickness. It never truly went away but at least Sandy had the ability to ease its influence at least for just a moment. The sooner he dispelled the girl’s fear the better.

There was also an undertone of anger that he couldn’t quite place. Perhaps that anger belonged to the mother. Yet after looking around the other rooms, he found no one else. This girl lived by herself. How awful! She looked to be only 8 or so; surely she had a nanny somewhere. Returning to the bedroom, he was determined to comfort her. His golden eyes fell upon the horribly thin blond. Rather than frowning like the previous child, she laid on her bed stiff as a board. Not moving. Barely even breathing. Sandy’s eyes widened- she was experiencing sleep paralysis, or perhaps a panic attack in her sleep. He needed to send her a good dream and fast.

Just like last time, a vision of a father returning. The sand took the form of a bearded man hugging a little girl- what could be more comforting than that? She didn’t react immediately. Her hands curled into fists atop the sheets. In the dream, the girl didn’t hug the man back. Like she wanted to yell at him for being gone in the first place rather than celebrate his return. Sandy was persistent though. With a twitch of his fingers, the dream father stroked his daughter’s hair in an effort to calm her down. To his relief, the dream child eventually hugged the man back and the real girl began to relax. Her breathing became more regular, her body seemed to almost melt into the sheets. A small smile played at her thin lips. Finally able to move comfortably, she turned to the side and hugged a pillow close to her.  


The clench in Sandy’s chest loosened and he was finally able to breathe freely. Not that he needed to breathe but being unable to do so wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. Sandy smiled in satisfaction before leaving to take care of the next child.  


Within a few hours, each child was sleeping peacefully. All dreaming of their fathers and brothers returning. Sandy almost helped some of the wives but that wasn’t his job as a Guardian. Children would always come first. Not there was someone to come second, but still. Take care of the children, give them good dreams, help them be okay again. Sometimes he wanted to help the adults though. He didn’t want anyone to have any reason to be afraid. In a perfect world, no one would be forced to experience fear or anger or sadness. But that was impossible. Darkness and evil would always be part of the world. All he could do was keep it away and bury it down for as long as possible.

For just a moment, Sandy imagined what it would be like if Pitch wasn’t around anymore. The world would be perfect and happy. Golden sand would envelop the night, no child would have a restless sleep, and he would never be strangled by fear again. It was a nice thought, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Manny was the one that created Pitch after all. He just had to trust that there was a reason for it, even if right now he couldn’t see it. Then again, Jack did say that fear wasn’t entirely useless. Sandy tried to see it from his perspective, he really did. He just couldn’t understand how Jack thought fear could somehow protected kids.

Fear was just no good. It created stress, it ruined a perfectly good night’s worth of sleep, it was just useless. 

The sandman huffed and shook his head, his spiky hair whipping back and forth. All this contemplation was not good for him. Just focus on giving good dreams- there was no reason to think of anything else that wasn’t in his job description.  


He supposed that tomorrow he could travel to a different town and repeat the process. Perhaps a town in England this time? He- **No.** Sandy froze and looked up to the moon that peeked out behind the thick grey clouds. **Check on these children tomorrow morning. Make sure they are all well.** Sandy nodded enthusiastically and almost nervously. Man in Moon never gave him instructions like that before. Had he done something wrong? He didn’t think so. Still, he of course wouldn’t refuse the spirit. If He wanted him to check on the children tomorrow, then he would. Until then, he needed to rest before a headache began to form.  


*  
Jack flew as fast as he could. Away from Pitch, away from the confused mess of indescribable emotions that bubbled up within him. What was wrong with him? He was the one who wanted Pitch to go out and do his job. He was the one that wanted this. So why did he feel so awful? It felt like there was a rock in his chest.

He hated feeling like this, he wanted the comfort that Pitch always offered but of course he couldn’t do that. Not only would he be going against what Pitch asked of him, but it might also make him feel worse. The farther he got, the lighter he felt. Still, that nagging feeling that something bad was going to happen refused to leave. He didn’t know what or when, but something was going to change and soon.  
He did not want to think about this. He wanted a distraction.

His feet touched against the ground surrounding one of his favorite little towns to visit. Children were playing in the park that was at the center of the neighborhood. It wasn’t fancy by any means- just a few rope swings hanging from the large oak tree that many of the kids loved to climb, and a handmade seesaw. But it was still something. A source of joy for those able to enjoy it. This is what he needed. He needed to be around kids. To join in their carefree laughter and fun. He flew closer and noticed how oddly empty the park was today. Where was everyone? One kid sat on a swing, not moving. Instead he stared straight ahead lost in his own thoughts. Another sat at the seesaw without a partner. Much like the child on the swing, she sat perfectly still, eyes wide and worried. Her hands ran over the little stones around her absentmindedly. Other them the park was completely vacant.

This certainly wasn’t fun at all. And it definitely wasn’t right.

Still, he looked around to find someone who could see him and play with him. Maybe someone was climbing the tree? He hovered over and grinned when he saw a familiar face in the tree branches.  
“Hey Bailey!” Finally, someone to hang out with! Even better, it was one of his favorite kids. After Pitch spared her dad, he had made sure to visit her as often as possible. Her dad never saw him of course, but it was nice to watch the two of them build a stronger relationship after Pitch’s warning to the father. “Wanna have a snowball fight?” He asked. Not that there was snow on the ground, it was the beginning of Autumn, but that wouldn’t stop Jack Frost. His eyes widened when he looked up at her from the ground. Why was she crying? Her eyes were bloodshot and her nose runny.  


“Hey, you okay?”  


Bailey smiled slightly when she saw Jack and wiped her tears. “Hi Jacky. Y-yeah I’m okay. I had a bad good dream.” Jack floated up and sat next to her on the tree branch. “A bad good dream? How can a good dream be bad?”  


Neither noticed Sandy who eaves dropped just above them. He was having a terrible morning. He checked on the kids from last night like Manny had told him to and every single one of them was sad! Some were even angry. A couple threw pictures of their fathers into the wall, as if blaming them that they weren’t home. Most just stayed in their rooms and cried. He couldn’t understand why. He gave them a dream of exactly what they wanted! Sure, it was fake, but that’s no reason to be sad or angry. He let them pretend to be happy which was definitely better than no happiness at all. Real or fake.  


“I had a dream that my Dad came back. That part was good. But when I woke up, I ran to his room and he wasn’t there.” Baily hugged her knees close to herself and gave Jack a grateful smile when he kept her from falling. “It was a good dream, but it made me extra sad when I figured out that it was just a dream.” Tears filled her grass green eyes once more. “Dad isn’t back.” Her young voiced dropped.  
“He probably won’t ever come back.” Jack stared at the girl in horror. No child’s voice should ever have that dark maturity she had. It was like she’d already given up. “Hey now, don’t say that. He’ll come back in no time! Don’t worry, he’ll…” Jack was doing the same thing that the dream did though, wasn’t he? Giving her hope without a source. False hope.

Jack sighed deeply, preparing himself for the conversation that he knew he had to go through. Pitch wouldn’t give false hope. He always had conviction in what he said. If Pitch said things would be okay, Jack had no doubt in his mind that they would. But if Pitch knew there was a chance of things going wrong, or was unsure about the future, he wouldn’t hide that from Jack. So, Jack wouldn’t hide it from Bailey. “Bailey…we’re in a war. People die in war. And your Dad might die.”

It took every ounce of willpower Sandy had to not knock the frost boy out right then and there. What was he doing?! He shouldn’t be saying such things to a child! Children need to be protected for as long as possible; he didn’t want Jack to corrupt and darken another child. But something told him to wait and listen. A dark curiosity that simultaneously warned him to not press further yet longed to discover. Such a curiosity was dangerous. Still, he let Jack talk. At least for now. Hopefully he had a point to this little speech.

“But you have to remember, even after all the bad stuff your Dad did, he will always love you. And you love him too, right?” Little Bailey clenched her fists, angry that Jack asked such a thing. “Of course.” She said darkly. “I’ll always love my Dad, but…I’m still angry at him.” Frustrated tears filled her eyes. “I know I shouldn’t be. He said he was sorry, and even stopped drinking that stinky juice. He’s never hurt me since that night but even though things are okay now, I just…” Jack said nothing, he knew she needed to let this out. He simply placed a hand on her knee. Something to anchor her, but not overwhelm her. Something to let her know she wasn’t alone, but not so encompassing that she was smothered. “Take a deep breath. Finish when you’re ready.”

Part of him wished she didn’t have to feel upset like this, but he knew it was necessary. Kinda like how the world needed fear so people could be courageous; people also needed to be angry to find peace.

After a long-labored breath, she continued. “I love my Dad. I do. But he still hurt me for years and now he’s gone and it’s like he just…ran away. Away from what he’s done, away from me. I know he wouldn’t do that; I know they need people for the war, but it’s like he chose to leave so he didn’t have to deal with me anymore. And I know that isn’t true!” Anguish filled her voice before she let out a bitter huff. “But that’s how I feel and I can’t help how I feel.” She raised her head to look at Jack.  
“Am I a bad person?”

With a shake of his head, Jack pulled her into a hug. “No. You are not a bad person. You’re angry, and scared, and you are allowed to feel those things. And you’re right, your dad didn’t choose to leave you. I don’t know why this war is happening, but I do know that people will do whatever they can to protect the people they love. I think your dad is trying to protect you from the other soldiers. But even so, you feel how you feel and that is okay. No matter what, you two love each other and nothing will change that. Okay?” Baily nodded into his hoodie. She was shivering but refused to pull away. “Yeah. Okay. Do you think he will come back?”  


Sandy had listened to Jack’s speech in awe. If it was him, he would have just put the girl to sleep and let her have a happy dream but Jack… he didn’t back down from her difficult emotions. He comforted her but he didn’t lie to her. In fact, he treated her as if she was an adult. That irritated Sandy. Children should act like kids and not have to worry about such awful circumstances or have to be afraid of their father leaving them. But at the same time, the Guardian of Dreams could not deny the altered aura that now surrounded the girl. Her anger was still there, but it was layered with an almost mature understanding.  


Jack wanted to make her feel better. He wanted to tell her everything would be okay. But he refused to lie to her; lying to her would only hurt her more. “I don’t know; I hope so. Even if he doesn’t, you’ll be strong for him, won’t you?” Bailey’s breath hitched but she still gave a determined nod. “And I’ll always be here for you. So if sometimes you need someone else to be strong for you, I can do it.” Jack’s arms tightened around her protectively, like a brother protecting a sister. “If you get scared, I’m sure Pitch can teach you how to be brave. Or if you grow up too fast, I’ll help you have fun. I don’t know if everything will be okay, but I think _you_ will be okay.”  


He tilted her head up and gave her a reassuring smile. “So. Until you find out about your dad for sure, what are you gonna do?” She smiled back in return before biting her lip. “First, I’m want to keep going to school. Most girls either get married or become teachers. I wanna keep going to school to get a job-job. Teaching is okay but that shouldn't be the only job for girls. And I guess I need to learn how to cook since Aunty is usually too busy.”

“Aunty?” Jack asked. “My dad’s sister. She came to live with me after Dad had to leave. She works a lot so I don’t see her, but I think she’s nice.” Jack smiled brightly. “Well good! I’m glad you aren’t all alone in that house. Now, I have to go talk to someone, but I’ll see you soon, okay?”  
Her smile lowered a bit. “Okay. Thank you, Jack. You’re the best.” Jack’s heart almost melted right then and there. He loved being believed in, but Bailey was so much more than a believer now. As long as he was able, he would stay by her side for as long as she needed him. But for right now, he had to take care of something. He flew away from the town. Not so slow as to be suspicious but not so fast for Sandy to lose track of him.  
His feet hit the ground, he turned toward the Sandman and his gaze turned steely.

“What do you want?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still following this story, thank you for being so patient. Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter; I know I sure did.
> 
> Edit:So I wasn't expecting Bailey to be a reoccurring character but here she is. If yall like her and want me to continue her little arc I will happily do so. Or if you'd rather the focus be entirely on Jack and Pitch,I will simply have Jack mention her once and a while. Please let me know below


	10. Give Me a Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important: If you're an old reader returning, this fic has been edited. The plot is the same except for chapter 5. Instead of leaving, Sandy meets Jack outside the Pole and they have a conversation. Their conversation and relationship will have continuity throughout the fic.

“What do you want?”  


Oops. He was caught. Sandy flushed, almost ashamed of himself for listening in. He couldn’t help his curiosity though. _How did you do that?_ He signed. Jack of course had no idea what he said. “Come on, just use pictures like last time.” His voiced held a worrying mix of frustration and venom. Sandy was puzzled. Weren’t they on somewhat good terms last time they spoke?  
Regardless, he did as the frost spirit asked. He created a picture of the girl, Bailey? And her broken heart. Then he created Jack and fixed the broken heart. Hopefully that made sense.  
“Are you asking how I made l her feel better?” Sandy nodded fervently. 

Jack huffed. “Well I didn’t lie to her, first of all. You’re the one that gave her that bad good dream, aren’t you?” Accusation hung in the boy’s voice, but Sandy wasn’t sure what exactly he was being accused of. He simply nodded as it was true.  


“And you did the same for all the other kids in this town, right?” He nodded once again, still not understanding why the boy seemed to be so irritated.  
“And you see no problem with the dreams you gave them?” Well… the dreams certainly didn’t help like Sandy had hoped. Was that what Jack was getting at? He showed a picture of children crying and stomping with a question mark next to them. All of the kids had woken up sad or angry and he had no idea why.  


Jack’s eyes widened and he scoffed in what seemed to be in disbelief. “Are you really this clueless or are you just an idiot? The kids’ reacted like that because the dreams were a _lie_. Don’t you get that?”  


Sandy was confused. Of course the dreams weren’t true, he knew that. But that wasn’t necessarily the point. The point was to make the kids feel better with whatever they needed to see so that they had a good night’s sleep. It was technically a lie, he supposed, but a necessary one.  


Seeing that Sandy still wasn’t getting it, Jack started ranting. “I didn’t help Bailey by lying to her. I didn’t mend her ‘broken heart’ by telling her that her Dad would come back alive and well. You know why? Because that would have been a lie. Right now kids don’t need lies because deep down they _know_ when it’s a lie. That’s why they reacted the way they did when they woke up. You aren’t helping anyone. You’re making it worse.” At this point Jack was pacing back and forth, leaving a small trail of frost behind him. “If you want to help them, don’t give them false hope. Help them see the cold hard truth but at the same time give them the courage to face it.”  


Sandy perked up at the word ‘courage’. Is that what Jack meant when he said fear could help? When he said that fear could protect? He quickly created a picture of Pitch with a question mark next to it. Jack squinted at the picture, unsure before asking “Are you asking if that’s what Pitch does?”  


Sandy nodded quickly. Jack seemed to be taken aback by the question. “Yeah. That’s exactly what he does. Or sometimes he teaches people to be afraid of something dangerous to keep them safe. Or sometimes he makes people be afraid of losing something good so they work to keep it. I told you, fear isn’t all bad. And neither is Pitch.” The venom in the boy’s voice had finally died down a bit as fondness for the Shadow man crept in to replace it.  


If that was true then…maybe fear really wasn’t that bad? He shook his head, unable to believe it. That went against everything he knew! Children were meant to be protected until it was obvious that they were adults. Once they were, Sandy could no longer interfere. Until that point though, while they are still young and innocent, they should never know pain or suffering.  
Jack had stopped pacing and stared at Sandy, calculating, seemingly able to read his mind.  


“Imagine if a kid was happy all the time. That they never experienced anything bad. So then when they turn into an adult, and you guys don’t seem to care about adults though Pitch most certainly does, they’re totally unprepared for real life. After being coddled by the Guardians for, oh I don’t know, twelve years? Or however long they believe in you. Twelve’s a fair guess I think. Anyway, so after twelve years they’re faced with actual problems that can’t be fixed with wonder and good dreams. For the first time ever they’re left to deal with more complicated problems and they have no one to help them deal with it.”  


Sandy wasn’t sure what to make of that. Adults didn’t need dreams or anything though, they had other adults to help them if they really needed it. But Jack was already ahead of him.  


“And just so you know, not everyone, kid or adult, has someone else in their life to lean on. Adults get lonely and confused just like kids do. Adults need hope and good dreams as much as a child does. Adults aren’t void of emotion or needs like you Guardians seem to think.” Pitch on the other hand, Jack though with a fond smile, never left anyone behind. He hoped he was okay, whatever he was doing at the battlefield.  


Sandy’s eyes widened. That…made sense in a way. He remembered one night when a young man was plagued with horrible nightmares after witnessing his mother’s murder. Sandy was tempted to give him a nice dream, but he never did. He assumed that since the young man was a teenager, he’d be okay on his own. Maybe he should have helped.  


Jack noticed Sandy’s eyes flicker in realization and sighed into a small smile. Maybe he was finally getting through to him.  


“Look, the next time you give kids dreams, try doing what I did with Bailey. Comfort them but don’t lie to them. Help them be strong instead of coddling them. What do you think?”  


Sandy stood still for a moment, not sure how to respond. He almost expected Manny to tell him what to do but he was no where to be seen. Perhaps Jack was right. The kids certainly weren’t happy this morning and for good reason he supposed. Maybe a different approach would do the trick. He was willing to try at least; he definitely did not want a repeat of this morning. Seeing those kids sobbing and blaming their loved ones for being gone made his heart tight with guilt. It was his fault. He caused those tears. He had to do better.  


His eyes flicked to Jack’s and he gave a solemn nod. “You’ll try?” Yes, he responded. Jack gave a satisfied nod of his own. 

“Good. Now,” Jack crossed his arms. “Tell me about your past with Pitch. You owe me after today. He said you used to beat him using your ropes, that true?” Sandy moved to respond but slowed when Jack raised his hand, stopping him.  
“And before you answer, I suggest you choose your words, or pictures, carefully. You listened to me, so I’ll listen to you but for your sake I hope you have a good explanation.”  


The threat was clear.  


But what explanation could he offer? Pitch was the enemy. The bringer of fear and hate and all other negativity that plagued children. Then again…maybe that wasn’t really the case. Maybe he was wrong about Pitch.  


Jack cocked his head, “Well?”  


Knowing this would take actual words instead of pictures, Sandy conjured up a few ropes and loops them together to form what he wanted to say.  
_Pitch has always been the enemy. We have always fought him. But if what you say about him is true, I am willing to change my mind about him. I need proof._

Jack bristled. “Why should I have to prove anything to you? You lot are the ones that refuse to give him a chance.”  
_I am willing to him a chance. I suggest you two come to the North Pole. Perhaps we can reach a truce._ The chances of that were unlikely, but maybe the past few centuries really were just a misunderstanding.  


Rolling his eyes, Jack growled. “Right. And then the others kill Pitch and try to ‘fix’ me. Not happening.”  
Who said Jack needed to be fixed? He moved his ropes to ask but Jack was done with the conversation. “Just forget it. You guys do your job, and we’ll do ours. Sound fair?” Not waiting for a response, Jack took off.  


Sandy was left alone. 

What now? He conjured a cloud and made his way to the nearest country where it was night. Thoughts swirled around in his head like a storm. He couldn’t understand why Jack flew off like that. He truly thought that it was possible for a truce. Provided that they had proof of Pitch’s good deeds of course.  
He supposed the boy’s suspicions were understandable but so were his! Pitch had done evil in the past and so he and the Guardians would need proof of his transformation. Then again…maybe he never was evil? If fear protects and provides courage and an odd resemblance of comfort, perhaps they were the ones in the wrong.  
Ugh. He shook his head to clear the headache he felt coming on. He was far too old to deal with all this.  


That night though, he did as Jack suggested. Rather than creating entire reunions and leaving them at that, he instead created dreams where the father or brother asked their children to be strong for them.  


“Son. I need you to be strong for me. You and your mother need to take care of each other while I’m gone, alright?” The sand-father gave a reassuring squeeze on his son’s shoulder, but the child still cried. “I don’t understand! Why’d you have to leave? You’re coming back, right?”  


Sandy flinched, finding it almost unbearable to hear such sad desperation coming from one so young. He wanted to change the dream, to tell the child that his father would come home tomorrow. It would be so easy. But…the comfort would be gone by morning. Instead, the dream father pulled his son in for a hug.  


“I want you and your mother to have the best life possible. And the best lives have to be fought for. That’s why I had to leave. I don’t know if I will be back.” The child’s breath hitched. “But even if I never return, you and your mother have to live the best life. I fought for it so you and her can be happy. You have to be strong so you can live. Can you do that for me?”  
Sandy watched, terrified that Jack was wrong. That it wouldn’t be enough. But the young boy nodded, clutching his father. “O-okay Pa. I’ll do it. For you.”  
Relief flooded over the sandman. “Thank you, son.”  


One last hug and the dream ended there.  


The boy would be okay. Sandy felt oddly prideful of his work. He was always happy to help children of course but this pride ran deeper somehow. It felt more solid.  
And so the golden man continued to give dreams that were not perfect in the happiness they brought, but they were true. Truer than any dreams he had given before. He stopped at one final house and found no child residing within it. Just a wife.  


Sandy hesitated. Should he give her a dream? He had never given an adult a dream before. In fact he had never given a dream to any one older than thirteen. It felt wrong to leave her behind though. He raised his hands, already picturing what he would create before Manny stopped him.  


**Don’t.**

The sandman paused. Why would Manny stop him? He glanced toward the sky, expecting further explanation but the crescent moon was silent. He glanced through the window once more to the woman sleeping fretfully within and found that he didn’t want to abandon her. He couldn’t disobey his creator though.  
He back away from the window slowly, his eyes constantly flicking back to the window. Shaking his head, he flew away.

*  
Manny gave an internal sigh as he watched the Sandman go to the next town. It wasn’t the right time. Soon, but not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo everybody! This fic is officially back in action. I had some family issues happen in December and other personal stuff but after editing this fic throughout March, it's back!  
> I am excited to continue and hope you're excited to read it:)  
> Feel free to leave comments!


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